July 5, 2013

My Journey to God

Mountain

The aspens shake their leaves with laughter
at the wind whispering and whistling through the pines
laughing at me trying in vain to braid the sounds into words.

The stars peer down as I stare up trying to connect the dots.
I watch for a rhythm in the fire as if there were messages in the flames.

How can a speechless man write lyrics
and sing them over and over again?
How can wonder cascade like a waterfall
from the ink of a ballpoint pen?

How does God take a piece of immortality
call it a soul and keep it in a clay pot?
How does the Spirit who keeps all eternity
live in a shell that will one day rot?

I stand amazed
and there’s Elijah standing in the door of the cave
a garment pulled down over his head

And the Lord was not in the wind
not in the quake
not in the fire

Was in the silence
Was in the whisper
Was the Word.

By Lisa Gritt
 

(Lisa Gritt is a member of Our Lady of the Greenwood Parish in Greenwood.) †

Local site Links: