How Shall We

How Shall We

(“In everything you were enriched in Him, in all speech and all knowledge.” 1 Corinthians 1:5)

Hear it again, the rhythms in the river;
listen like rain, the ribbon wind through the branches;
the harmonies still hover above the rainbow shimmers that
frame Bridal Veil Falls.

See it from finish to front, the folk tales of the forest;
Survey like plains, the mature wheat like ocean’s wave;
the palette that changes in spectral degrees between
the Rockies and the River Grand.

There is more wonder to fill every mind on every continent,
more dancing questions than professors, pastor or priests can answer.
Remember that rain is made to float popsicle stick boats,
and sun is meant to dry our castles made of sand.

Even the clearest days do not always erase the marks I hide
beneath my shirt
inflicted by those who thought they had the answers.
And the sweetest rains sometimes cannot sweep the grease and grime;
the stains that time has not fully erased. Who, in the name of
the Sweetest Man of All, invokes that name to keep steal
even a single breath from another man’s body.

We, both and all, tread this astounding ball, and will and must,
return to dust; our remains perhaps mingled on the quiet plains.

Enriched and indwelt by the Son of ALL, where are the humble
words, (how could I do what I did); the sorrow (how could I
cause one more tear); the moment before sundown (how shall
we
then
live?
)