Theology of Trust

 

Theology of Trust

When the call comes to announce a soul’s sudden departure; a child’s end

And all I can consider in the moment is

the lives of thankless, lesser mortals  extended far into old age,

The injustice of disease

man’s cruelty and indifference … these things in the landscape that never go away …

and then to close my eyes against the pain, reach out in silent prayer to

an ancient mother-father I neither know or understand, but sense

The mother-father of wishes and dreams

of birth, lovemaking, death …

why? Thank you it wasn’t my child

In this moment I feel so alone and feeble.

And then there is a quiet whisper, almost inaudible

Just against my ear or a faint humming in my mind

Reminding me that apples ripen in their time, unless they are first cut down

By drought or frost

In either case

The fates have their way.  Ripening love or stealing it from us –

All there is for us is to tend our apples and trust.

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