It is in the silence that he is usually there,
in the angel music he will ordinarily speak,
but like many who wander and wonder
there is an emptiness and disconnection.
=
Shadows of shapes where he used to be
and a faint echo that which led to stability,
a heavy heart hangs low, he held it once
and led me by my own frail hand.
=
A desertification of my spiritual journey,
sand dunes and landscapes of coloured
hues of a sun set, strange birds and sighs
as the wonder that is around me -waits
=
by my side and some times I can feel
that he’s been there, walked this way
and in my dreams I am trying to run
and reach him before he is truly gone.
=
Then the crying of tortured people,
the homeless refugees, raped women,
and hungry children call me to pray
and in praying I kneel and beseech
=
and ever doing it in a vacuum I trust.
I will not stop even though he is silent.
I will not put down the calls for prayer.
I will never stop saying God is Love.
=
For Jesus walked this world and wept,
and so I will continue to cry in hope,
and proclaim that God is good ’til –
my wounds and his are bound together,
