Monday, May 18, 2009
"In fear and amazement they asked one another, 'who is this? He commands even the winds and the water and they obey him?'" Luke 9:18-27
We tuck our maps and books into bags
wrap in raincoats toting umbrellas reading
signs overhead and in doorways
climb uphill from embankments still
turning the wrong way.
When we sit out the storm the light returns
only to trick us into going without
being caught in the rain soaked and dripping
we laugh down the sidewalk and fall
into foreign doorways.
We listen to accents and search foreign faces
leaning on bus windows peering in
tube trains and national rail doorways
platforms with signs and whipped
with wind and dust.
We climb up and down
train platforms and bus stops
the world all new we gather in and lose track
we drop our guard turning wrong
asking for directions once again.
The clouding sky the constant portent
and yet we are secured in this shell
this tiny boat which has no right to sail
and yet by God's breath continues on
rising with the waves leaning
with all storms.
Like damp seagulls we cling to rocks and piers
screeching occasionally, raising prayers and
protest on the wind, asking and aching for direction
we wait for the sun to dry us
the light to illumine our way and the return
of our morning strength.
O Creator of life and life we sink our heads
into the deep down of your safety
fold our hopes into the night dress
tuck our expectations and failures away for the night
asking for rest, sweet salve and healing rest
to tend our weary bones.
O You who control even the wind and waves
listen to these trembling disciples
for we sometimes feel swamped, verging on drowning
and we hear only your soft breathing
your face resting sweetly in the helm.
O dearest one, who suffers more than we can know
help us carry the suffering to your feet,
help us see these strangers as friends
help us build a boat of faith big enough
to encompass the world you show us,
wide enough to glide across storms and pliable enough
to grow and stretch with the seasons.