All Souls’ Day

“When Mexican villagers celebrate Los Dios de los Muertos (the Days of the Dead), the celebrants customarily scatter finely decorated skulls made of sugar amid the feast. Kids, of course, will eat anything. But it’s striking to consider that adults, too, partake of these cranial confections. The sugar skull symbolically reminds us that it is death than gives life its sweetness. As much as we may long for immortality, without death our lives would lack flavor. Too much sugar makes sugar itself meaningless, but the sweet moments that we can snatch away from death are precious because they are limited.”

From Earth Bound: Daily Meditations For All Seasons by Brian Nelson

All Saints’ Day

“Mother Spirit, Father Spirit, where are you?
In the skysong, in the forest, sounds your cry.
What to give you, what to call you, what am I?

Many drops are in the ocean, deep and wide.
Sunlight bounces off the ripples to the sky.
What to give you, what to call you, who am I?

I am empty, time flies from me, what is time?
Dreams eternal, fears infernal haunt my heart.
What to give you, what to call you, O, my God?

Mother Spirit, Father Spirit, take our hearts.
Take our breath and let our voices sing our parts.
Take our hands and let us work to shape our art.”

Norbert Fabián Čapek, founder of the Prague Unitarian Church, gassed by the Nazis at Dachau in 1942

Samhain

“Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness – to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.”

The Human Seasons by John Keats (1795 – 1821), born on this day

“No need to wonder what heron-haunted lake
lay in the other valley,
or regret the songs in the forest
I chose not to traverse.
No need to ask where other roads might have led,
since they led elsewhere;
for nowhere but this here and now
is my true destination.
The river is gentle in the soft evening,
and all the steps of my life have brought me home.”

Roads by Ruth Bidgood

“We are staring at the moon
and I think for a second we become
wolves again.
Screaming at the stars,
growling at the idea
that this night might end
and we will forget this moment,
as in turn we will be forgotten.
Our wild souls captured.

We become wolves,
and for once we are running
for something.
Instead of running from it.”

Wolves by Ruth Awolola

“How to stop time: kiss.
How to travel in time: read.
How to escape time: music.
How to feel time: write.
How to release time: breathe.”

Matt Haig

“I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadow at the back of people’s eyes and smiles, and shadow, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth.”

From The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (1932 – 1963), poet, novelist and Unitarian, born on this day

“Listen!
There is a call to worship
in the hidden sinews
of our being,
a taut string waiting to be plucked,
a melody longing to be sung.
We are made for praise!
An abundant earth calls it forth:
pounding sea and babbling brook,
sighing trees and their singing residents,
shimmering stars and silent night,
the growing and the greening
and the resting seed
invite a joyful song.
A heart freed sings praise!
Surprise of mercy and resonant flesh,
delight tickled, joy unleashed,
tender touch and shared walk,
we shout and sing together for joy.”

Psalm 65 Redux by Carla Grosch-Miller

Thought for the day, Saturday 25th October

“The most valued lover, the most valuable parent, the most valued friend, the most valuable “wilderman,” is the one who wishes to learn. Those who are not delighted by learning, those who cannot be enticed into new ideas or experiences, cannot develop past the roadpost they rest at now. If there is but one force which feeds the roots of pain, it is the refusal to learn beyond this moment.”

Clarissa Pinkola Estés, quoted in Christian Mystics by Matthew Fox

“Stepping through the gate into Chatsworth Park early this morning, I saw the yellow, brown, and golden leaves quietly swirling to the ground, glinting in the sun that was just breaking through the cold, damp mist of morning. I crunched through the dead leaves piled at the bottom of the great gnarled trees with their roots going deep into the earth. This avenue of trees, reaching high above, created a canopy which had caught the morning mist, whose weighted drops dislodged the last of the season’s leaves… The Great World Soul is in the golden leaves falling in season, and for that we give thanks. But when we plunder Mother Earth, the Great World Soul weeps through the tears of the mothers no longer able to feed their children. Kill Mother Earth, and we will die.”

Joan Wilkinson, Derbyshire Unitarian, quoted in Fragments of Holiness for Daily Reflection