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let fall

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As mid-week song and prayer moved through a light-filled sanctuary, Christian clergy broke bread and poured wine at one table, while their Buddhist guests filled in patterns representing their understanding of the cosmos at another. The sand-mandala thus fashioned was slated to be washed into the river at week’s end. The invitation to join in Communion remains with me today.

“let fall”

there is in this a moment held
I cannot say but breathe, a filling in
of patterning to carry into free.

there is in this a light to trace
of sand and grain on sky, a letting fall
of kindred grace to compass more than I.

there is in this a pouring forth
a witness swirling made, of spirit given
onto tongue, of pure land given wake.

________

(“let fall” by William B. Jones, Week of Pentecost, 2013,
at Immanuel Baptist Church, Rochester, NY)

________

branch

poetarc.branch

 

 

 

 

 

“Split the wood, and I am there.
Raise this stone, you all will find me.”

– Jesus (attr., Gospel of Thomas, 77)

 

line to walk me out this morning,
cut against a clouded ridge,
climb above a shrouded village,
lead beyond the sheltered world.

branches shifting as I clamber
what of winter tracks remain,
into darking limbs and mountain,
light to splinter broken rail.

hardwood glazing eyes run dim,
yet demanding here be seen,
harden me against these briars,
arcuate your twisting vine.

pray your Spirit shawl the morning,
blessing weather wooden ties,
splitting gnarled, your grain to witness,
light revealing embered trail.