kite

The wind of the Feast lingers. It remains in the thickness of leaves and tickles the pulse of life beneath our  skin.  It whistles beneath the wings of butterflies and moths, and beckons the flaps of flags and fingers of cloth on clotheslines to dance in the wake of its glory.

Blessed be what lingers from the Feast of diverse babel, and dawning understanding. Blessed be the ears that open to hear the word of glory, and the heart to bloom with love. Blessed be the mind that leans into wisdom, and the hands that stretch into the unknown spaces of communion.

Blessed be all that is lifted into the light on the wings of the One who Is.

Anne Fraley is rector of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in South Windsor, CT. A life-long dog-lover, she escapes the demands of parish life volunteering for animal rescue groups. She occasionally succeeds at reviving her blog at reverent irreverence. 

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