Here is a rainy afternoon poem by my oldest daughter, who is 9:
Rain and Nature
The rain drops like manna in Moses’ time.
It’s a gift sent from God, my Lord divine.
The rain gives the flowers a new beginning.
They burst open in colour,
like the song birds are singing.
A dewdrop will do for a beautiful crown,
on top of a flower that grows in the ground.
Bare branches on the ground are simply lifeless
but against the sky—
bony fingers reaching up
to grasp immortality!
Today as amber warmth pours through
the stained glass windows
like honey on our souls,
we linger like sleepy cats
in sunshine,
praying peacefully.
If you listen quietly
you can hear our souls purr.
Oh sweet relief! Love has triumphed!
No more has death the final word
It has become but a deep bow
In the dance of life
A last embrace
Leading into great light
Day of silence
Of exhausted aftermath
Of unbelief
Can it really have happened??
The strangeness of life continuing
Just as it had before
Yet—on the inside—
Earth-shatteringly different
Every mother who has lost a child
Knows this feeling
In the core of her soul
In her hollowed-out heart
In her empty aching arms
The day after death
For most of us
The long wait for reunion
For resurrection
Lasts a lifetime
One long Holy Saturday
Until death breaks the silence
And we hear our babies laugh
To endure this day
Stay close to the mother of the one they pierced
No sorrow deeper
No love stronger
No patience more graceful
Than that of the one who spent that Holy Saturday
Weeping tears of hope
The evening song rises,
wavering upward with the incense.
Voices sound out like trumpets,
break open in beauty like daffodils,
proclaiming before the great suffering begins:
“It is for love! It is for love!
This great folly is for love!”
And then, the garden,
agony
alone.
Jesus, your prayer rises like a whisp of smoke,
like a candle extinguished…
leaving only a sad grey trail
curling heavenward in the darkness.
The tabernacle sits empty,
like a heart broken open
and found abandoned.
Love—
life—
lost.
We stay,
mourning you with our songs,
eyes open and aching,
empty of tears,
waiting.
For you I would enter the dark waters
Extinguish myself
For you
Give all
So said the Voice to the tiny speck
Floating the the vastness of the universe
And the little speck
Overcome with sheer joy
Burst into flame
And lit up the entire universe
With a flash of love
Uncontainable
Entering by this exchange of love
The realm of eternity
When I wake up
The lights are still twinkling
On the ski hill
And it’s just light enough
To see the snow-dusted mountains
Against the pale blue sky.
The kids are up already
Regardless of the time change,
Reading Barefoot Books
To their baby brother on the couch.
“Ooooh, aaaah, gawaaa!” He solemnly proclaims.
“He’s so talky!” says his big sister.
We all know he comes by it honestly.
It’s gonna be another big day of stories and chatter….
I boil water for coffee while the baby sings.
God’s heart broke open
when we chose to leave it,
bursting through walls of warmth
meant to nurture,
but misperceived as barriers to freedom.
Out here in the windswept world
where many wander alone,
each their own god
confusedly crashing into each other,
our hearts are often wounded
—and burst open—
red mouths gaping with sorrow.
Who can understand our pain?
Who can heal our shattered souls?
Is there one who has suffered like us,
and survived? Yet more…has triumphed?
Go to Him.
His heart is open still
yearning with the vulnerable expectation of love…
Will you have the humble courage
to enter?
Gentle hands that touch
with a love strong and deep
know the body is no mere shell
for the soul,
but an outward expression of its being.
And when these hands soothe
calm and comfort,
when they restore dignity
to the broken frailty of an aging body
by the gentleness of their touch,
they affirm with silent symphony
that each person is precious,
body and soul.
For when the vessel is bent and broken,
light shines through the cracks
and love bursts forth in beauty.
Just East Of Crazy Land 