And God came down,
said he would appear when we least expected.
And God came here,
slipping in behind a door left open.
Appearing like an angel bearing gifts.
And we were too fearful
to believe,
too blind to see,
restless for peace,
too anxious to trust the darkness
easing,
shifting its dark wings,
its swirling skirts.
As we,
locked into a corner,
felt the great crevice of separateness widening,
opening underneath.
Yes, into this God appeared,
timed his arriving to when
we might be most in need,
most lost,
in all the ways we had failed to live,
and save ourselves.
And like with Lazarus,
God drew in,
first crying for the knowledge of
our losses,
and then turning to the business at hand,
of raising the dead,
of placing us upon our feet
again
hope-filled, and
expectant.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
March 2020
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