A Year of Seeing: July 9: “So that our eyes look forward”

So that our eyes look forward

 

What does it mean to be present

in all of this, around us and within?

To be present, surrounded by

so much we cannot control, yet

called on to pay attention to it.

The wind blows where it will.

Which wind?  How will we know

when we lick our finger and raise it

above our heads that this wind is the one

that will lead us to safer shores

and not toss against the rocks?

What does it mean to be present

here and now, to notice that

the anxious cloud my soul knows so well

is rising again? Rising again.

I remember the way things were,

the way we used to pray, to stand, to sing,

to touch.  I remember it all, but–or and–

at what point will that one pebble land

that will tip the balance of the scale

so that our eyes look forward, not back?

What will that pebble feel like

when I hold it in my hand, close my eyes,

run my fingers over the cool surface,

and flick it into the pile

with a smile on my face?

 

SH

7/9/2020