Monday, June 10, 2013

Wilderness People

Wilderness People
An exit, a birth, a conviction
Moving forward, blindly at first.
Surely after a dark,
Day was unconvincingly bright.
Good to be true, too much sometimes.
Doubt invades, making its corner bed.
Endless questions;
Never answers expected or wished.
Pressing on. Shouldering hard truth,
Stumbling, sliding, descending;
A place where shadows hold highest court.
Too human, cut and bruised by stones,
Reaching, grasping, pleading.
And what is to be found but our own selves
Crying for water, nourishment, community?
Who will break the night
And come crashing in with sunrise, day, warmth?
Waiting for night's end, the dread to vanish,
Yet sun must rise late above mountains
To kiss our blighted hollow.
The light is dearest in the valley, you know,
Where scarcity makes it precious.
So we forge our vigil lamps,
Fueling them with tears.
Suddenly, rising in our midst:
A salvation unexpected.
Ember, flame, bonfire!
Spirit of hope
Leading restless wanderers
Back to table, loaf, vine.
An unfathomable grace
Shared in wonder, surprise, thanksgiving.
Sweet mystery, clothed in goodness;
Beyond grasp, measure, likeness.
We tread a new earth
Where every patch of sod is holy.


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