February 23, 2015

Psalm 65:8

Those who live at earth’s farthest bounds are awed by your signs;
you make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy. 

Signs

It was only a bird …

heard him before I saw him,

calling clear, crisp in frigid air,

a sound out of time,

spring weeks away,

maybe months.

Why are you here little bird

so red, perched high against

bluest sky,

singing your solitary song?

Ah, but I know …

you are here for me,

aren’t you?

For us, really …

stirring hope for spring’s

great love of earth

warming, awakening us

to love the Love

who makes the heart alive

that hope may live

in winter white,

Your song, a sound,

a sign …

at which heart leaps

and knows ... life

and joy are not gone

but live.

Sing your song

little bird,

sing for me, for us.

Your prayer

is better than mine.

It was only a word,

a small one at that—we,

two letters.

What power is this

that bathes the heart

with solace and something

like (could it be?) peace …

and patience that lives

only in hope’s

sweet embrace,

leaping to life at the sound

of a word—we?

We … sings its song, too,

sounding truth that is

and never leaves,

awakening awareness

that this soul is not solitary

but joined, one in

sweet communion,

bound in Love’s embrace,

one heart, not two,

knowledge awakened

by a word,

one word, a small word

fanning hope’s flame

that this day, everyday

can be lived with joy.

Sing your song

little word,

sing for me, for us.

Your prayer is my own.

Signs …

they are everywhere.

Listen. Look. Know.

Pr. David L. Miller