Thursday, September 30, 2010

Musical Notation: 2

Everything is His.

the door, the door jamb.

The wood stacked near the door.

The leaves blown upon the path

that leads to the door.

The trees that are dropping their leaves

the wind that is tripping them this way and that way,

the clouds that are high above them,

the stars that are sleeping now beyond the clouds

and, simply said, all the rest.

When I open the door I am so sure so sure

all this will be there, and it is.

I look around.

I fill my arms with the firewood.

I turn and enter His house, and close His door.

Everything is His.

Everything is Hers.

The bore, the log jamb

The wood lying in the field

The forest dying to make us doors

The trees are dropping into oblivion

Wind of change are tripping beings this way and that way

The storm of human conflict not above us

the gods that are sleeping now beyond prayers

And, simply said, there is no rest.

When a child moves aside the plastic door she is so sure

that the garbage dump will be there, and it is.

She looks around

And fills her arms with toys made of trash

And turns to enter His house, Her house.

Do we close the doors of our hearts?

Everything is His.

Everything is Hers.

Everything is Ours.

What tragedy calls out to you this morning and is it yours?

No comments:

Post a Comment