was it quiet there on the mountain, Moses,
as the children of Israel held their breath
and you saw the green sweep of the promised land
that you could not enter — and waited for death?

a life incredible, vivid, excellent.
was it quiet there on the mountain, Moses,
as the children of Israel held their breath
and you saw the green sweep of the promised land
that you could not enter — and waited for death?
when my heart
shrinks with fear
that things are
beyond my control …
my personal theory is that Heaven
looks a lot like Northern Ireland,
where thorny gorse blooms golden
on the rugged hills
it is finished. and
because He lives, that means
this is not the end.
the first tulip bloomed today,
golden as butter,
and i wished i could show you
its delicately frilled petals
it is finished. what’s
the use of words now, Jesus?
silently, tears fall.
yet to come will be the weeping;
let all mortal flesh keep silence
and keep watch.
sunday, and the children wave their palms
with excited eyes and spreading smiles.
palm branches! palm branches! they shout.
prayer
like
sparks.
when i wake in the night
reason once more shattering into darkness
it is love that leads me back to light