Where’s the balm

Ordinary Time 7/Epiphany 7/Week Before Lent – Tuesday

[ now playing? ] Nnenna Freelon – Blueprint of a Lady: Sketches of Billie Holiday

A lunchtime walk and chat with one of my colleagues at work, Wendy, eased my mood swings a bit today. But I’ve been praying this African-American spiritual a fair bit during the day.

There is a balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead,
To heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged,
And think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit
Revives my soul again.

There is a balm in Gilead,
To make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead,
To heal the sin-sick soul.

======================================

Emily Dickinson – (280) I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro.
Kept treading—treading—till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through—

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum—
Kept beating—beating—till I thought
My Mind was going numb—

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead again,
Then Space—began to toll

As if the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here—

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down—
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing—then—

+ bf 1739hrs

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