Through Corridors of Light Where the Hours are Suns, Endless and Singing

Image Credit

Lord, you look at me with utter seriousness.

Your eyes are sober and direct.

They pierce to the depths of my soul.

You search me, and you know me.

What are you saying, Jesus?

* * *

The one thing I do know

 is that there is no bullshitting you.

And as you look at me, I see

Some of what you see.

And I will rectify this…

But help.

For I cannot save myself.

I need your hyssop, your precious blood

To wash me white as snow.

Oh, the paradox!

* * *

Your eyes are serious and calm

Because you see the end from the beginning.

When my faith was a slow germinating seed

When the seedling of my faith was tossed by winds,

Almost blighted by drought,

Trampled by a dog,

Watered with salty tears,

Fertilized with blood and sweat,

Over-fertilized in fits of enthusiasm,

Blighted by big freezes and the great sadness,

When it looked as if it wouldn’t make it,

You saw the tree I would become

And so you were not perturbed.

You looked at me and smiled

Because you beheld the end from the beginning

And you looked at me from eternity

“through corridors of light

where the hours are suns, endless and singing.”

You saw the end from the beginning

and so you say with utter certainty,

all shall be well, all shall be well

all manner of things shall be well.