He was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
While he was going they were gazing up toward heaven—
Ah, Mysterious One, you befuddle us,
you laugh at our small minds scratching
at treasure behind glass.
The child, impossibly, forgives.
Through the tiniest crack in the dawn
a tenderness reaches that takes up
saint and derelict alike.
No one understands. We guess.
If we are wise, we wonder.
We belong to a universe, to a God,
stranger than our knowing,
more infinite than our imagining,
more wonderful than our fear.
Lay down your compass and ruler.
Kiss the sky.
Just tell the story.
Love has risen to the top.
falling at all hours of the day,
neither adorned nor diminished
by our knowledge.
100% chance of sunrise,
somewhere, every minute,
unaffected by the thin layer
of what we’re sure of.
May 12, 2021