That Day

What will it be like, that day,
when every last living thing
that has ever frightened us,
annoyed us,
gotten in our way,
impeded our progress,
incited our hunger
or lust for killing,
or just loved us too much
with wild eyes,
has been exterminated?
What will it be like, that day,
as we sit on our barren, lonely piece of earth,
pounding the dry dirt to dust
with our angry fists?

(March 17, 2017)

Early This Morning

You imagine emptiness
or all-pervading presence,
it's all the same to me,
a vast loneliness,
a vast sadness.
And beyond me.
I imagine myself in Christ's arms,
as Mary held Him after the crucifixion.
It goes on, it goes on,
the separation,
the holding.
Tomorrow I hold Christ
in my arms.
it's all the same,
tear in tears,
rain within rain,
water everywhere,
the emptiness within the presence,
the presence within the emptiness.
It is almost more than I can bear, and
more than I can comprehend,
the emptiness, the presence,
the sadness,
the loneliness,
all
slipping away as
the rain runs off the grebe's back
and into the sea.
The wine returns to water,
the drops to the whole, as
sunlight plays on the shining sea and
cradles me in eternity.

 (April 6, 2017)