An older one for a Lenten Friday
Cobweb
I was
about
to clean
the cobweb
from
the crucifix
that hangs
in the
convent sacristy,
when I
became
aware
of the
tiny scrap
of
spidered soul
crouching
behind
the corpus;
and
I thought;
how right,
how beautiful
and right
it is,
that the
small ones,
the tiny ones,
the ones
we label
as ugly,
or scary,
or simply
too
different
to feel
their
kinship,
would
make their
home
with
Love
in the
moment
of its
greatest
rejection,
in the
moment
of its
greatest
triumph.
So
I withdrew
in
reverence,
remembering
in my
bones
the
web of wonder
in which
we are
all,
in
gossamered
grace
together,
soul spun
from
Spirit.
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