THE KNOCK

It’s time to be still,
to let the Word wash over me
for changes are in store
and the time of preparation is at end.
There’s a knock at the door
and so I stand here holding the key,
feeling the sharp ridges along the edge
scraping against the whorls of my flesh.

I know well who has arrived.
I’ve been expecting him for awhile,
and now I know that nothing
can remain the same.
Neither as tall nor as old as I’d have thought.
But then again my eyes are older, too.
For a man of words,
I’m struck by the silence
and the way we speak by looking
deeply in each other’s eyes.
He asks me to write
and as I do I find him in between
every word, every letter.

Long days of disaffection
have been wiped from my soul
as I start anew, walking the path he sets for me.
Sending me back into this world
with a charge from his heart,
I seek only to do his will,
bringing light and bread along
to guide and feed me
and so to finally set my soul free.