I don't know if this would surprise Jesus. It might surprise me, but it reminds me of the story of Jesus' baptism. On that day the heavens opened and the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus in the form of a dove. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased."
Many times in our lives, we live in a veil of clouds, uncertain if the sun will shine again. Through faith we will live to see the clouds lifted, and the shroud of darkness torn back.
The following poem was written today in the writer's workshop called Zoetrope. Those of us who dabble in poetry and wish to play gather around the keyboards at about 1pm eastern time, and respond to a prompt. Today's prompt was to consider what we understand as faith.
Crossing
Crossing the James River Bridge
catching at the periphery
points of light--
beacons lining the shoreline
into tomorrow
destination unknown.
catching at the periphery
points of light--
beacons lining the shoreline
into tomorrow
destination unknown.
Shivering--
the remnants of fear
clung like a peat-moss
cloak;
praying the waters
would close over
Pharaoh's chariots.
Scanning the landscape
in search of a landmark:
a sign, a fleece
a herald of welcome-
a cold draught of water
for the itinerant.
Amid the neon banners
competing for attention
the warm glow
the humble yellow
peeks through the swath
of red, blue and green--
a refuge of familiarity--
as the tinny juke-box plays
in the Waffle House
and we receive bread
we know without a doubt
we've been led home.
© Grace M. Murray, 2007
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