Prayer for Things Purple | Maren Tirabassi
Gentle God, I give you thanks for all things purple –
for sunsets and thunderstorm August nights.
for lupine like freedom blowing above blue ocean,
for the scent of lilac,
and the transience of violet,
and the exotic luxury of orchid,
for advent candles that burn waiting and hope,
for a beautiful dress of childhood
and a postcard from a friend,
for one amethyst earring,
an eggplant and a plum,
grandmother’s faded lavender apron
and satin ribbon tied around a small gift,
for the common cup of wine like blood
and the purple taste of holiness in tiny glasses,
for the color of beauty when I have recognized beauty in myself.
Gentle God, I pray in intercession for all things purple –
for welt marks on a battered woman’s face and shoulders,
for the smudge under sleepless eyes,
for wine spilled across spoiled pages of life,
for the lonely childhood or migrant workers with grapes in their hands,
for stiff flowers on a sympathy card
and needle bruises on an old woman’s arms,
for a bridesmaid dress that will never be worn,
and a half-finished diary,
and the crumpled metal of a bicycle,
for the cloak they put on to mock a man with a crown of thorns,
and vinegar on a sponge
and twilight by a borrowed tomb,
for the color of pain when I see myself
and the color of healing when I do not look away.
