A Day to Die Again

O Beloved Spirit, 

We weary of unclenching the very things that have us in their grip.
Must it be? 
We weary of the letting go that comes in unhitching ourselves 
from what we hold to be so dear.
Must it be? 
We weary of the seeming unfairness that comes in detaching ourselves from the very thing we take pride in.
Must it be? 

And yet, if it must be, perhaps this day is a good day to die.
The freshness of the dawn brightened by the light of Venus.
The newness of the ground potent with hidden seed taking root.
The crispness of Spring bursting into a thousand thousand buds.
Ah yes, if it must be, perhaps this day is a good day to die.
A day to learn to birth the death that comes to term in us.
A day to learn to embrace what is most holy in this Here.
A day to learn to forgive so that the giving can be restored.
Ah yes, if it must be, perhaps this day is a good day to die.
For letting go of the image we have enshrined 
with tenacious self-esteem.
For letting go of the disappointment we have so rehearsed 
and kept in play.
For letting go of the anger we have nurtured 
so as to not lose its fiery burn.
If it must be—and it must be—this is a good day to die. 

Must it be? The cross before the breaking of nets with abundance?
The separation, the forsakenness before the union, the whole?
The releasing, the unclenching before the embrace and the embracing? 
It must be. It must be.
Ah, but this day is a good day to die, O Spirit most holy—
who continues to infill the clearings, to infuse the openings—
who continues to restore the wounds with compassion, 
Make fresh the depleted, make new the jaded.
It must be. It must be.
O Beloved Spirit, do not let us lose sight 
of how vital to life this death we are called to die.
Yes, it must be that You winnow the least of us.
Yes, it must be so as to uncover the best of us.
Yes, it must be so we become at one with all that is human 
and with all that is divine.  

In Your Image.                                                                       Amen.