Monday, February 23, 2015

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. 


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

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