The Lay of the Land
It’s not so much that you ever reach
the Promised Land, but that the sand
through which you plod
with laden shoes and dust-filled
nose wafts a fragrance faint
and the sky is beautiful
and promises blossom
in this very barren land.
As the prophet said:
“The sands become pools,
the thirsty ground bubbling springs.”
This shapeshifting landscape,
always changing, like magic,
like God is here,
the terrain at dance with our prayers,
never safe, never dull,
perfectly imperfect, all is well,
pain is abundant,
Take all of it straight into your heart:
the scorch, the shade,
the shadow, the sun.
Do not dishonor the mysteries
by explaining them
or speaking of them before they ask
to be spoken of.
Watch them unfold.
Pause long when you think you understand,
When it seems unclear yet again,
leap forward with abandon
and expect to land in the heart of God.