The lift and drop of the headlines.
The drift of nations in and out of sanity.
The world stumbling toward its fate.
I will be there.
The school,
and the streets between your house and the school,
and the child who walks there.
I will be with you.
The argument,
the deep gnawing fear for a relationship on edge,
the brown weight of guilt.
Beloved, I will be near.
The waiting room,
the moment in the car before you go in,
and the child sleeping in her crib.
Yes, I will be there.
The soup, simmering,
and the wooden spoon beside the soup,
and the sock drawer.
I will be with you.
There will be the starry night,
and there will be all the others;
the light from the stable,
and all the stables with no miracles,
the days without end:
yes, always,
I will be with you.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net