Saturday, April 3, 2010

The Long Saturday

Today, I remember that you died.
Not how or for how long, just
your momentary brush with mortality,
a dull epoch emerging with your exhale.

Since the dark, early morning I've known
your absence and your promise
to return, devoid of faith enough to decide
which is easier to accept completely.

Each hour elapses, and nothing
resolves except the quickness of unbelief.
You wither in my mind just as your body
before you, and my hope before that.

Suppose night remained, weeks passing
only in shadows and snow; and, days
hesitate, and clouds sustain today's grief.
And here, fearful and fitful, I rest.

1 comment:

Stacey said...

I found your blog through your current series on Throw Mountain's blog. As I skimmed and scrolled through your blog, I came upon this post. I know it is a few months old, but it made me stop everything I was doing, thinking and all I could say at the end was 'wow'. My heart got stuck on your description of the waiting, the uncertainty, the withering hope of a promise. I all too easily stay there, in those terrifying hours, allowing the darkness to encompass the Light He gives me on my own path.

It's really the last stanza that I keep going back to; reading and re-reading. Finding wholesome rest while fearfully hoping and fitfully trying to understand tugs at my heart. Beautiful words, beautiful picture, and beautiful tension.