Tag Archives: Truth

For My Husband on His Birthday (or, of winter and waiting)

Standard

This winter lasts, but our time moves steadily from its first unfolding,
and we find ourselves in the already but not yet
of the journey.  Green plants push through dirt
beneath the frozen snow.  Sunlight shines through windows
covered with a long winter’s filmy grime.  We wait for warmth
and wait for wisdom.  We are in Easter’s Advent, praying, listening.
The cardinals have returned to the barren forsythia, looking, flitting
from branch to twig to ground, searching.

Perhaps we are a nesting pair, arriving, looking, searching,
putting all energy into choosing, collecting, building, and then,
hoping.  What will this next spring surprise us with?  A lush garden,
a field of wildflowers?  A new truth?

For now silence may fall with the snow
while we remain steadfast and full of hope.

For Thomas, In October

Standard

You are your own twin,
Didymus and Acquinas;
someday you will be whisked away
from these veils of time,
and you will ask,
and it will be made known to you,
and you will glory in the Lord
old and deep and solid.

Old and deep and solid
is the core of you, though you do not know it;
the mysteries you turn about in your hands
revolve and rotate in the tiny-huge space of your spirit;
and now, you watch and listen, wonder and lament,
though these revolutions and rotations are the natural law and no cause for despair;
the conflict is great, yet
Divinity shines and reflects everywhere.