LUNCH


LUNCH

Two candles, oh three, one candle near the kitchen.  Lights off, the candle lighting the vast space.  Silence again with coffee, ramen and banana.  Last night’s left over to garnish ramen.  Without you, a quiet lunch on a Sunday.

Those splinters of God’s light, those times our bodies, nothing came in between but thin air and shafts of light.  You were so close like my own arms.  We felt each other.  We rolled the stairs kissing mad, you and me.  Hot soup for lunch and a warm bed to sleep, I awoke, alone, hugging my pillows. 

Afternoons are like Golgotha, like hiking a mountain in a hot summer, like watching an arid field.  It is like waiting for a day to end, and a night to come, or passing time, and no one’s coming home.  Afternoons are like those times, Dad had just died, those times, I awake in my sleep, sobbing, “Dad is never coming back, but he is truly Home.”

“Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and the whole world.

Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and the whole world.

Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and the whole world.

Jesus, King of Mercy, we trust in You.”

Rosevoc2.jan 2013

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