Waving Us

Waving Us

(“And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan?” Mark 3:23)

When light stands up displacing the haunts of darkness
and
the rivers flow solid with richer healing than imagination,

Why do you still ignore your Creator?

When a night of certain-death is redeemed with a Word of forgiveness
and
a stone is moved like mere liquid from a tomb’s gaping mouth,

Why do you still resist your Rescuer?

But some still can see a shadow with crisp lines early afternoon
and insist there is no sun to make them.
And others will never, (evidence aside), believe, crucified,
the Man rose alive while earth was shaken.

And so darkness wrestles grayness,
sickness wrestles faintness.
The forgiven walk ashamed,
the Risen One remains the Anointed One
the Right Hand Man, whose wounds still bear
the scars of love’s best wager.

Demons scream at His name, and we still dabble
in our darkrooms hoping to discover the germ that
started it all.

Or we steady ourselves by our daytime labors,
our professions and provisions making sense of
the calm that comes before the final call.

He sits on the shore with breakfast
already baking, waving us shoreward;
He sits on the throne with mercy
already won, pointing us homeward

If we will walk in the light; creation’s best invention,
and redemption’s best intention; once (then, there, here, now)
for all. The strength of love revisited awaits
the next open moment, the silent solace of grace.