Poem – In the winter, we can see

In the winter,
we can see the bones of things.
We can see the true shapes
of the trees.
We can see where the birds
have made their homes.
We can finally see
the river that nourishes both,
that sustains.

In the winter,
we know what is what,
without any pretense,
without any show.
No more padding,
no more guile.
In the winter,
you know where you stand
and what you have
to work with.

It is like this in our lives
when the storms tear down
our defenses,
our walls,
our artifice.
Only when we have nothing
do we see what we really have
to work with.
Only when the tornado has come through,
the divorce is final,
the tragically died has been buried,
do we see what we really have,
what is our foundation.

Who knew?
We might have been building
all our hopes
on something frail,
something false.
We might have been
pinning our dreams
on something as insubstantial
as the morning mist.

It is a gift, this stripping away.

Jesus’ love for Jerusalem

Jesus wept when he saw Jerusalem, saying “If only you could see the salvation that has come to you today, but your eyes have been closed. The time will come when your enemies shall build mounds of earth against your walls and block you in with their troops. They will crush everyone inside your walls to the ground, and then level your buildings. Not even one stone will be left atop another. And this will all be because you did not recognize salvation when it came to you.”

LK 19:41-44