We are out of breath, Lord

We are out of breath, Lord,
but you come to us whole,
with all your strength, with all your fervor,
with all off your burning Breath...

Help us to detect your incandescent mark
on the face of the foreign man or woman !
Tell us how to welcome the other in his or her truth, language and idiom,
in his or her darkness or faith,
to welcome them into the heart of your silent presence !

Teach us how to let this fire which comes to us from on high
burn from within at each Pentecost of our lives,
how to let this tenderness of the entrails,
which pushes us toward the craziest acts
and the most audacious intercessions, open into bloom !

In the narrowness of our dwellings,
between our most sacred barricades,
make your Pentecost break forth,
that it give may us a second breath !
Come yourself to intercede within us for the beings which suffer...
for the beings which hurt and destroy...
for the beings whose humanity is in danger...
Oh God, give breath to our prayer !

Lytta Basset (in Traces vives, éd. Labor et Fides, 1997)