Triduum 5

The events of the early day were dwarfed by the planned practice and a plea for help from one of our sisters there at the retreat. The practice was for the procession that evening in which I was blessed to carry that 30lb candle! There was some concern as I wouldn't be able to use my cane. The more important happening was at the afternoon discussion group in which our sister, whom I little knew, broke down in distress. She and her husband were coordinators of the retreat and -- well, let her own words explain (written down on Sunday afternoon) filtered by my own feelings and spiritual condition.

And my sister cried,
"The distraction and pressure was more that could be endured. I was torn and ready to refuse to continue this turmoiled plan. Sleep was elusive and I prayed my tears did not disturb my love partner near by. Joy is diminished by anguish and my candle refuses to be re-lighted in the rush of silent winds that tug at my soul. The world presses down -- and in -- and all around. My spirit must burst! The specter before me is that of a bunch of grapes, full perhaps, but yet not separate from the sustaining vine.

The pressing plate squeezed down, down and I burst! "

The wheel is turned by many hands beyond my control and indistinct in a blur of pain and tears and hope lost in unwilling surrender. My juices flow forth and spread outward through the cracks in the vessel of my life that I have never had the time to patch. Life breathes in and out in furtive gasps at the escape of purpose and reason and hard fought control over things less important now."


Many other hands and hearts took up tasks suited to their nature and the couple got some rest. For some gatherings such an interruption might have been disruptive, but somehow her willingness to surrender and accept help came from the retreat for which she had sacrificed herself. I guess some 'growing closer' always occurs during a Triduum Retreat, but I can hardly attest -- just know. The two returned in time to participate in the drum circle and procession, and he volunteered to walk behind me -- "just in case." At first I thought it unusual to allow a musical participation event in the middle of this most spiritual series of scheduled and ritualistic moments. Incredible! About eighty people joined in, playing instruments they had never seen, clapping and singing. This continued through the burning of the petitions and provided cadence during the procession. My focus was on keeping the candle aloft and steady, but I remembered enough to write this the next morning.

Drum Beat

I hear a distant plonk, no actually a resounding plonk;
a drum beat so profound that simple sound is lost.
My soul sings in symphony with fingers so inspired
to stroke this pulse and reverberant hymn
that pulls so on my yearning soul,

I strike the center of my shield and hear a solid duty cry,
and stoke beguile the chimes of loving gift insured
to blend with thoughtful purpose and sure resolve
and match the fire of love's endeavor
to quite this most impassioned stroke.

Thunk, bong, and feathered stroke of soft earthen , fumbled poke
calls to us in community most secure and yet lost
to a need for many who's song we may not hear
yet in charity is a stronger voice.

Plonk, pitter-patter, thonk
Skree, pitter patter scrop
Plonk, pitter nock, do ree.