Grandeur Splits Open

Looking out
from behind
the frozen cracks
in our lives
we see the
rivulets of ice
melting and
becoming
the drink of
tender shoots
and blossoms
of a fast
approaching
spring.

A thunder of
newness bursting
forth from the
suffering and shards
of our brokenness
is just around
the bend
of time.

It is the hope
we all struggle
to enflesh.

The gentle
cooing of the
mourning dove
slips between
the gales
of icy wind -

calling us back
to our singular
desire to persevere
and triumph over
all that lurks in
life to take our
center from us.

An emerging tendril
as frail as it may be

pushes its way out
and drawls our sight
to its simple place
amid the snow banks.

Winter will leave us
just a surely as spring
will return.

Grandeur splits
open the mundanaity
of our petty lives
and calls us to join
a dance that has been
going on from all eternity.

Our ability to join
will change our hearts
not the dance of the ages.

Moss will spread
itself over rocks
and trees for aeons
after my flesh has fallen
to pieces into the
clods of earth which
will one day engulf it.

That force is
the heartbeat
of a Creator that
is beyond my grasp
but within my chest.

Spring turns on
the beating of the
heart of God.

Ciao!

tjm+

photo of Snowdrops from Holy Cross, West Park, NY