Saturday, April 21, 2012

Sorrow to Joy

“A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.” So some of his disciples said to one another, “What is this that he says to us, ‘A little while, and you will not see me, and again a little while, and you will see me’; and, ‘because I am going to the Father’?” So they were saying, “What does he mean by ‘a little while’? We do not know what he is talking about.” Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, “Is this what you are asking yourselves, what I meant by saying, ‘A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me’? Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy. When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. In that day you will ask nothing of me. Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full. John 16:16-24

Sorrow to Joy

I am restless with waiting
a warm teasing spring wind becomes
an angry, tormenting storm out here
on the edge of the ocean straining
to see through the fog
praying for a sight,
a promise heading towards this lonely port.

I walk the widow's walk staring out
over the waves and winds
wrapped in heavy wool and scarves
I cannot stop my watching til night
and the world has fallen dark with sleep.

I imagine out there in the distance
on some warmer waters, you lull
in a hammock or hang from a sail
listening to the water and the gulls
dreaming of more familiar climes
and your home port right here.

The wind keeps me indoors as it whips
hard cold rain against every pane
the storm is worst than promised
delivering gales of screaming wind howls
and fears of dangerous wrecks so near
so near to home.

I will not stop pressing mt face
on the glass nor pressing
my knees in prayer for love
has found and will not abandon
will not break this tender heart
love will not, cannot turn and sail away
love is always returning, turning home
with the breezes of laughter and joy
sending you swiftly home.

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