February 8, 2023
Another Day
What will I make of this new day
while bodies (some with breath) lie entombed
beneath mortar, brick, wood, and stone
where the earth
shook and life collapsed?
What will I do on this bright sunny day,
all my limbs intact,
my loved ones well,
when the dirge of mourning snakes its way
through plumes of dust and smoke—its very notes
dust and smoke—when my heart hears it
across the continents?
How will I be on this, another
day of precious life, as I turn
away from images, headlines,
numbers ascending,
weary of the drumbeat in my head:
“But what can I do? But
what can I do?”
I lay down my yoga mat
then stand
in Warrior pose, brace my feet
against familiar ground, and breathe
long breaths, slow and deep,
in and out
and into the world,
this world.
I lift my face skyward
raise my arms overhead
gathering all the hurting
all the wounded
the hungry
the war-ridden
the dying
the fearful
the widowed and orphaned
to the Sun
offering the tears
that roll down my face
that drench my heart
as supplication
as communion
before bowing before It All,
rolling up my mat
to exit into the fiercely bright
day.
© Rosemary McMahan
Spirit Reflections 
Beautiful!! That says it all so eloquently!
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Sometimes there are no words. Thankful these spoke to you.
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As you take your warrior pose, I place my right hand on my heart and extend my left hand, palm open. Embodied prayer.
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Amen and amen.
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Profound awareness, profound compassion, profound love and light offered to those who suffer. My thoughts exactly, so eloquently spoken through the sharing of your heart.
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Each comment left for you, Rosemary, echos in my heart as they extend to you our profound feelings of your poem-prayer. May I read it tomorrow at our church’s Prayer for Ukraine/Peace Service? With hands reaching upward, offering all to the One……..🙏
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Absolutely you may. Spirit’s words, not mine. Thank you.
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