Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Easter 3, Yr C)

(Acts 9: 1-20)

Is it only there, far away and then,
or could it be any place,
could it be this place,
could it be here and this hour?

Could it be you staring into truth as into
the sun, the searing shock of awareness
burning away what you thought you’d known,
until all you now can see is the fire of light?

Could it be your eyes trying to adjust
to truth’s reversal of shadow,
the inside-out reshuffle of all your certainty,
the upside-down disruption of rightness and way?

And there is the voice in which truth speaks
echoing in your mind like music
but whose words sting like hammers
against the stony surfaces of your soul.

Is it yours, the shiver of anxiety felt
as familiar walls of comfort begin to crumble?
The waiting in the darkened room of sorrow
for the guilt of previous prejudice to start to fade?

But now may your hands unclench, gentle;
the sea of your heart lie quiet, calm;
now may your mind become cup, open,
held in stillness like someone to be fed.

Now what you know is there is more truth
prepared for you. More insight, more
learnings to come. But now you are ready,
you are waiting, unblinking.

For God to visit as friend
to listening friend.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King