Maker of heaven and earth
——-of time and season
Thinker-upper of soil
—— of autumn decay, and rot
and roots drawing nutrients
——-whatever they are
that feed and sustain
—— the beauty of the lilies, and the violets
Imagineer of variety
Puller-offer of the impossible
breaking our hearts
——-every spring day
——-with greater magnolia blossom
————–finer, more delicate red bud
Overwhelmer

——-we’re speechless
——-we need a moment to collect ourselves

Not everyone buys this, of course, O God
Not everyone sees or recognizes
——-You
They’ve thought their way out of it
——-or give it no thought
And we have no proof
——-other than what our eyes see
————–our hearts feel
——-other than the telltale marks and events
————–in our lives
——-the conviction of the starlight
Is that the flutter of your Spirit
——-which just brushed its winged breath against our cheek?

It’s okay
we’ll believe for them

We have no proof
——-other than our parents
——-and their parents
————–parents by birth, parents by choice, parents by adoption
other than the witness
——-of multitudinous generations
——-the choir chorusing through time
——-children in the front row
————–who are not yet quite settled into the song
————–children by birth, by choice, by adoption
we have no proof
other than the story we have heard
——-and have ourselves entered
——-holding the children’s hands
————–letting their hands go

everyone thinks
——-we know how the story will go
when we know very little
——-other than this grace in which we stand
——-and a certain kind of trust

other than these words
this morning
here
——-in your presence

What a riot
to be able to speak, together
——-to you
what a blast of pure delight

though it’s hard to let go
——-the sorrow and concern that crowds round
help us
——-in the sufferings of a world that brings us such joy
——-in our own sufferings
let the blast last
the riot of life, the green burst
——-that’s filling in the blanks
————–of a winter landscape
——-as if it has something to say
and is saying it
singing it
——-to our very souls
——-which sing along