Poem for the Journey

A Shifting Tapestry

With Mercy’s guiding hand
we pass the shuttle 
of intention through 
the tapestry of story

With practice and
10,000 pauses we weave
lose, dangling threads of life 
into an acceptable form

That we thought 
might be a magic carpet 
upon which we could 
fly to heaven 

Turned out to be a shroud
made ready for the 
approaching blinding brightness 
that casts long shadows 

Soon swallowed up
by the searing light of Presence
entombing us in luminous darkness
the life we knew consumed 

We lie together in state
atoned by Mercy’s shroud
until woken by trumpet sound
into the next resurrection

When Justice quietly enters
Mercy's bridal chamber
folding back the shroud
kissing the sleeping child

Arm in arm they cross
the inconsummate threshold
He with the gleaming 
sword of righteousness

She with the healing
balm of forgiveness
We, between these
two Angels consoled 

so that awakened
from our refining sleep
through squinting tearful eyes 
readjusting to the light of day

we can see the path
that leads to 
the horizon of 
our destiny

Justice's sword
and Mercy's balm
taking shape as the
gift we offer to the world

carried in our heart's purse, 
once a carpet of assent
then an atoning shroud
now a storied ark

in which we hold living 
holy things to bring home 
to those who hunger 
and thirst for righteousness

the taste and nourishment
of wine and bread, like manna 
is discovered as we sit 
around a table of abundance

to share the bread
and drink the wine
which with no surprise
is enough for all

for all,  FOR ALL.