Sunday, January 1, 2023

The World Waking Up in Us

Wandering further than usual now I cannot be alone. Mist rising off snow in the pasture, empty Adirondack chairs. Knowing in her the truth of me, which is the end of confusion, which is grace in us. Distant Christmas lights, no stars. Sheep watch me pass unthreatened. Strands of hay through which the wind carols, a little shy of silence. You walk a long time to reach the desert only to realize when you get there you've forgotten why you came. It's okay. Crucifixion ends in us, resurrection ends in us. Enlightenment et cetera ends in us. Cardinals come and go, the fallen apple tree remains useful without fruiting. Is it clear? Christ is what you remember when Christ remembers you. I remember wading through low tide on First Encounter beach with you, holding hands with you and not saying much, days after the wedding. The world waking up in us, and love no longer alien. I face the direction of the house the marriage built and bow. Skip a little walking back, a dance these old bones knew before lovers, knew before teachers, knew before God made knowing ideal. 

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