Chocolate in My Hand

The young girl grins,
and love shines out,
as she presses into my palm
a piece of chocolate,
a chunk of the treasure
bought with her own small dole of coins.
she could have squirreled it away,
saved it for a late-night craving,
nibbled on it to make
her homework less painful,
hid it beneath her pillow
as insurance against a barren day.
But this child knows
some greater truth:
that the best part of life
is in the giving,
and joy is the prize
sweeter than chocolate.
For this
we, too, are given
the greatest gifts.

 --Timothy Haut, 2013

November Prayer

God of the bittersweet and the bare branch,
sing a song for the darkness.
Let it be a song of thanks,
a tune as sweet as sunlight
and the memory of golden hills;
and let it be a song to still
the restless winds and winter's fearfulness.

Sing to us a melody of hope
when hearts are cold and night is long;
a song to help us see the winging geese
and turning constellations,
so that we might rise, rise with them
toward that flaming, bright horizon
at the edges of our world.

God of the first frost and the fox's cry,
sing a song for the waning light,
Let it be a song of faith,
so that the last leaf and the fallow earth
may be signs both of ending and beginning.
Let your hymn make us brave as bulbs,
sunk in the sightless earth,
making ready for spring.

Sing to us a song of love,
sing it deep inside us,
a sweetness for our most bitter times,
a peace to give us holy rest,
an answering voice
at the end of our truest prayers.
Amen.
Amen.

 --Timothy Haut, 2010

Prayer for All Hallows

We are just children, Lord,
  who are looking for kindness
  as we journey through the night.
The wind howls,
  and strangers loom in the shadows.
We try to be strong and brave,
  laugh as we stumble on our way,
  but we are far from home.
We need a bright face
  to light up the darkness,
  a smile
  in the night.
Shine on, bright  Spirit.
Help us to keep our eyes
  on You.

--Timothy Haut, October 27, 2013

We Are the Trees

We are the trees,
Spilling our prayers on the world
Like leaves in the wind,
As if there could never be enough.
They fly recklessly,
Turning and spinning
Most of them finding their way
Into great crackling piles
That will be swept away,
Forgotten, turned back to earth.
But perhaps one or two
Will rise into autumn's bluest sky,
A bit of fire in the waning light,
And love will grow from them,
And light will follow them
Into October's darkness,
And this created world
Will bless the trees
For their faithfulness.

--Timothy Haut, October 16, 2013

Prayer for Getting Rich

Lord, Source of all that is good,
Creator and Sustainer of the universe,
Giver of awesome gifts and undeserved blessings,
Help me to be rich.
Shower me with enough
That I will no longer worry my way through each day,
But instead live in gratitude,
Cherishing my utter abundance.
Help me to have enough of this world’s treasures
That I may know the joy of sharing what I have,
Spreading it around instead of holding on tight.
Let me feel rich with wonder at the great mysteries,
Receiving each day with anticipation
Of the surprises you have in store for me.
Remind me that my wealth is best measured
In the love that I give and the love that I receive,
And that what I own are small things compared to
The splendor of the stars, the brightness of sunlight,
The joy of music, the sweetness of food,
And the glory of this amazingly beautiful world.
Teach me, Lord, to be content,
So that my heart may know peace even in lean times,
And so that my laughter and my joy
May add to the richness of those around me.
And when it is time to leave this world,
Let me go with a thankful heart, my Lord,
Knowing that, through you,
I have been rich indeed.
Amen.

--Timothy Haut, September 29, 2013

The Found Coin
        

Luke 15:8-10

The old woman bent
To grasp the shining coin
Glittering beneath her threadbare couch.
She rose from the floor,
Swept clean by her incessant search,
Then uttered a  thank you
To whatever angel
Had led her to a finding.
As her swollen knuckles wrapped
Around this single treasure,
A grin sprouted among the wrinkles
Of her face,
And then a laugh exploded.
"Lasagna for everyone!"  she giggled.
"Creme Brulee, or Death by Chocolate!"
She remembered the bottle of wine
Stashed behind the linens
After her son's wedding,
Grabbed it and flung open the door.
She waved it at the neighbors
Out in the yard raking leaves.
"Come on over,"  she yelled,
Dancing a jig on the porch.
"I'm having a party
And I can t have it without you!"
 
Jesus paused in his story.
"And that's what God is like
When he gets his hands on you."

--Timothy Haut, Sept. 15, 2013

Song at Summer's End

One day it is there:
A sound in the afternoon,
Played on one string
As if the whole world
Were ready to hear it.
Crickets deep in the greenery
Start the tune
And the trees hum along
A whispered memory
Of something heard for ages
In the days of shorter light
And golden leaves.
It is just the beginning of an old song,
Heard with the heart,
A song of change, regret,
Childhood left behind, lost love,
A wish for something not yet seen. 
The stars may hear it, too,
As great Orion rises
Like a hunter waking to a distant horn.
And somewhere a listening child
Hers this song at summer's end,
And will remember the ancient chord--
This long, yearning, tender sound--
For all the years to come.
Perhaps it is the first of all notes,
The music from creation's dawn,
The holy sound of change and promise,
The note which is sung by God
Whenever he dreams
Of something new.

--September 1, 2013