Shining Spirit

In the still darkness of early morning,
surrounded by soft sounds of unlabored rest,
before the first bird sings
or the pungent smell of coffee, bacon
crackling and the hissing melody
of two eggs frying define the
moment of waking,,,,
I wait without expectation, bare to the bone,
sacred waiting neither seeking nor pursing.
In the void that precedes effort and experience
you speak my name as you step from a shadowed
corner, arms extended in an invitation to embrace.
There exist only two entities, two minds in this moment
of miracle and mystery. But at the touch of finger tip
to finger tip, jagged bolts of lightening rip through the
curtain of darkness and faint light grows ever brighter
revealing in a finger snap of time the most beautiful of
all beauty, the perfect of absolute perfection, the face of
the never seen, the always seen. I dare to look upon the
visage of God. And there you are…and you and you and you.
The faces of humanity in the holy countenance. In the still
darkness of early morning, before sight and smell and ears
and hands create new realities, I wait for the eternal unexpected.
And here you are. And here I am. And here we are in the
sacred void of encounter.

Which one did you say is the Nazareth man?
The third from the left, second row back?
What did he do to merit the shame?
Curse the High Priest, a Temple attack?

Do you see all these crosses that line the road?
Each is a sign to all who pass by:
pose a threat to the Romans, the Imperial power,
and this is the way you will surely die.

Trust me, my friend, it’s a horrible death.
Spikes through the hands, unbearable pain,
a signal to all who walk this road:
defy the Romans and this is your gain.

O, yes. I remember your Nazareth man.
His name was Jesus as I recall.
He preached on the mountain and by the sea.
Didn’t he overturn tables in the Temple hall?

Such a shame to see him die this way.
He had much to offer, remarkable skills,
a voice for justice, a heart for the poor,
the very things that got him killed.

Perhaps someday, maybe years from now,
people will think of the Nazareth man,
how he cared for the weak, the poor, the lost
and decide, if he did, then maybe we can.

I hope the cross is not the end.
Perhaps Yahweh will someday send
another like the Nazareth man
to lead us on to a better land.

See, they carry him now from that terrible cross.
What a sad sight to see; what a tragic loss.
He could have been such a guiding light.
Must we always live in the darkness of night?