Abraham and Sarah
Like crinkly old leaves turning brown
and falling from the tree
old and tired
sullen and drawn low.
Nothing much else coming.
Certainly not a season
of fecundity and blossom.
And then, suddenly,
amazingly, confidently
comes promise of greening buds
for those ancient ones.
Stunned,
withering, snarled trees in winter
a cocky laugh of disbelief,
caught unaware in this transparency of Presence.
Why do you laugh?
Is anything too difficult for Me?
Hush. Hush.
And so the seed was born and named "he laughs"
And laugh they did
flourishing
the reign of rejoicing
the largeness of God,
Now big enough
that I, too, might
Hush. Hush.
Conceive,
and throw my head back
laughing
from my belly's heart.
Like crinkly old leaves turning brown
and falling from the tree
old and tired
sullen and drawn low.
Nothing much else coming.
Certainly not a season
of fecundity and blossom.
And then, suddenly,
amazingly, confidently
comes promise of greening buds
for those ancient ones.
Stunned,
withering, snarled trees in winter
a cocky laugh of disbelief,
caught unaware in this transparency of Presence.
Why do you laugh?
Is anything too difficult for Me?
Hush. Hush.
And so the seed was born and named "he laughs"
And laugh they did
flourishing
the reign of rejoicing
the largeness of God,
Now big enough
that I, too, might
Hush. Hush.
Conceive,
and throw my head back
laughing
from my belly's heart.