Monday, December 5, 2016

Isaiah 35:1 -2

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
   the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly,
   and rejoice with joy and singing.
The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,
   the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.
They shall see the glory of the Lord,
   the majesty of our God. 

Glory

Glory cloaks the trees, filling

the heart on winter’s morning,

the first snow now fallen, arriving

gently on a Sunday morning as

I stopped to gaze through alcove

windows of the sanctuary before

setting the table for the Eucharistic

feast freely given to human souls,

freely as winters grace, silver

flakes floating, coating lifeless

limbs as a single finger leaf, red

as winter cardinals, clung to a slender

branch, holding fast to its life source,

breathing joy into me, the joy of seeing

winter’s glory and knowing within

this Love for … Everything,

this love, yes, a greater glory yet.

Within the walls people sing; they pray,

talk and remember the heartbreak and

hope of those standing near. And I see,

I see! You give eyes to see the glory

you are in a mother’s tale telling

how her child was saved and reaching

to another whose beloved, now ashes,

rests in the garden tomb, out the alcove

windows, a grief covered now with silver

flakes, a gracious snow reminding that Love,

silent as snowfall, covers and cloaks all,

even this heartache, with the glory of Love’s

wonder and winter’s exquisite art.

Glory, it’s all glory,

and we shall see it … together

and be glad.

Pr. David L. Miller