In the beginning was the word – and then another – and another. The adventure arrived like waves crashing in a dream – the dark waters – the blinding sunlight. Juices flowing – fingers racing – imagining the recipe – thoughts baking – black on white – laughing at the lion – no farewells.
And then the desert, the empty water bottle in the sand and shotgun in the closet.
Poor Ernest.
I’m so glad prose never excited me and God is my God.
The news is three days late. We missed the ascent and angels’ song. Our goodbyes were in the get well cards and letters.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” I Peter 1:3-5
To fly away, to see the Source, to worship only, to touch the infinite, to know the eternal, to drink the pure, to taste the true treasure . . . to love forever.
