By Bill-Wylie-Kellermann

O Wind of Spirit who moved across the face of chaos,
breathing life into creation and humanity.
Heal this man, afflicted in his presidency,
from the very illness he has unleashed in mockery.
Defend him from the Power of Death by which he is so enthralled
and so embraced, as to set it upon countless others
whom we pray you protect as well.
For the time and sake of mercy,
withhold the wrath of your judgement and bring him instead
            into the fullness of his humanity, painful though it be.
When his breath comes easy and he wakes, may truth dawn upon him like a bolt.

Let him comprehend, as if on the last day, in the fullness of light,
all he has said and done,
lies all counted, uncloud before his eyes.
Let him feel, even for the first time, the pain of others, their families their friends.
Grant him to know in his heart the falling club and the bite of gas,
bullets in the back or the bed, the knee on a throat,
the who of the carcass hung.
Cast out of him the dreading spirit of white supremacy, its guises and uses;
scatter from his soul the grip of its kindred demonocracies,
galloping war and impoverishment. Let their victims touch his eyes.

May he wake alive to the smell of autumn on the wind,
And in that scent remember all of Earth and her creatures.
And so suddenly, to weep for her dead, the wild blown flood,
the thaw and its tide, the scorch and the dim of smoke.
Let him be at a loss for words. Listen and hear. Blessedly ache with grief.
And in silence yearn for the
Day of Repentance and Reparation to swiftly come.
Know his wounds and their generations.
Heal him thus, body and soul.

All this in the name of Jesus
Who healed the blind,
the rich, thought irredeemable
and poor, thought untouchable,
Who for her mother’s persistence, healed the child from the other side
of the Siro-Phoenician border,
Who cast out
the legion from the Gerasene in the tombs
            and the money changers from the Temple,
Who somehow managed to love enemies and urge it,
Who from the cross cried God forgive Pilate, Herod, and their minions
for the brutality of ignorance,
Who taught us to pray: deliver us from evil.
As so we do, for ourselves and for others. AMEN.