Awake, my soul!

Psalm 57:8

Awake, my soul!
Come, O holy Fire.
Awake my soul.
Rouse me from my guarded slumber.
Kindle my spirit.

Find the tinder in me.
Reveal the fire
deep in my heart,
deep in the recesses of my being,
deep in the corners of who I am.

Arouse in me,
courage to be a woman
brave enough to allow my flames to flare—
to spark upward,
and burn on the edge of out of control.
Help me not to hide the fire.
Help me not to contain it in an urn too small.

Come, God,
Come stir my gray ash embers.
Cooled through the night.
With tongs your angels carried the live coals
for Isaiah's lips,
but you carry mine in your own hand.
Reach into the center of my hearth
and stir my banked fire.
Lean in and breathe
your sweet breath across my coals.

The gray ash flutters away.
The embers glow red, and
tendrils of smoke lift upwards.

The cinders crackle and shudder,
and a small flame—
shot with blue—
ignites.

Cup your hands around this tiny flicker.
Protect this struggling flame.
Fan it with your holy breath
so that I might live.

Feed my awakened soul, O God of Fire.
Feed this small flame.
Let it spread and roar.
May it give light and warmth.
May it even singe and blister.

Come, O holy Fire.
Awake my soul,
so that I might combust into
white heat.