There is a blessing that comes with summer… lying with my back to the growing earth, I can feel the slow turn of a thousand miles of creation, in my ears the swish of feet in grass, the slowly falling magnolia petals.
“All we can do in this deep, summer hour, / with the rain, the taxis and the flowers / Walking between the dear ones holding on / is shout, shout for joy.”
I feel the years gone past… remembrances of times gone by… back when my heart was young, and my hands were held.
“Everything that has been broken you’ll mend, / throughout the morning of one day, / sleeves fluttering in the air, in the air, / and we’ll shout, shout for joy.”
I have learned this last months, as I have the ones before, that I am strong. I am stronger than I ever thought I was–or wanted to be. And I am not strong enough.
“I said so little. / I could not think of replies.”
Remember Perelandra? Oh, man, /you make me older more quickly than I can bear./ But this fall is not the end. For I have fallen into the arms of Love… and am learning to let Love carry me.
“The words all flew away, / up away from me, up into the trees, / where they shout, shout for joy.”
I am weary of fighting. But I know I have won. I have been upheld. Carried to higher ground. And in my wordless weariness I feel my Creator wrap me in the arms of the winds–shhhh, shhhh. My lips will sing Your praise–my Savior and My God.
Shout. Shout. For Joy.