He was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven,
suddenly two men in white robes stood by them.
They said, “People of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”
— Acts 1.9-11
While I was looking up, expecting you there,
the beginnings of despair in the emptiness of the air,
you were beneath, the seed buried in my life,
burrowing mightily up into my light, unseen,
climbing slowly, pushing aside rocks and roots
to reach my daylight, my face, my eyes.
You were the blossom opening from within me,
swelling my limbs, alluring,
the song like a lost miner
making its way out of my lungs,
the unborn child within, changing everything,
the longing for God—Beloved, you were that!
When I tremble it is you, ascending still,
working your way up into me.