”…..and you did say not to talk?”

 

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Lenten Journey – Day 11
Biblical Scripture: Mark 8:27-30
Open Invitation to Join Terri from

Cloaked Monk

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3-Mar-12: Mark 8:27-30

27 Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples,

“Who do people say that I am?” 28 And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.”

29 He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” 30 And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

 

 

“…..and you did say not to talk?”

 

 

All splayed and stretched upon the sands and rocks of that peak

Our friends did lie in stuporous amaze at the messages of the wings and light

All tumbled out of used-to-bes and could-have-beens confusing these meek.

All friends knew their Maker breathed on the wings and through the light so bright.

 

“Just one more note, one more whisper, oh dear friends,” sang Ugly Bird with Crow.

“Just one last piercing of your hearts at rest, “whispered Bluesdy-Whoosy Dragonfly.

“Take care to pass this word of Him, this sight of Him, to not a single bug or beau.”

“Take care to feed your joy in silence, in waiting, in ponder of Him with holy sigh.”

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CRITTERS, UNFOLK, EXPECTED ONES DRINK TOGETHER

DRINKING AT THE DOWNSPOUT

Little Lost Lamb

Cock-Eyed Sheepdog

Nightingale Teacher

Singing Crow

Crowing Rooster

Crooning Dove

Fluttering Dragonfly

Spotted Goad

Old Hen

Young Weasel

Flop-Eared Boy

Flop-Eared Donkey

Stump Woman

Crook-Eyed Shepherd

Bullfrog

Caterpillar

Big-Nosed Shrub Girl

Young Mother-Girl

RushingAngels

Shattering Stars

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All unexpected critters and sort-of folks

Trailing into Bethlehem’s Back Gate

All joined so all can hear and see and feel and smell

All teaching and reaching together for this gate

All stretching towards the stall

Trailing into Bethlehem now so dry

All holding up each to each so in thrall

Trailing each a single sense of about to be glory

All holding up each to find drops of spirit fill,

All now gleaming through cracks in animal house,

As first come sheep, before come cattle, now come donkey,

Trail around a filling trough to never thirst again,

But no room for outside critters, no room for not-quite folk,

All now sliding down in weak adore of Light within,

But no spot for thirsting after righteousness,

All now pushed under old fallen roof joint,

All now falling under shattering starlight and crushing angle wings

Brushing the dews of morning down the joint spout

Draining the angel cloud weeps down into waiting throats,

Soaking the deep places inside the hearts in that corner,

Watering the life forces in each, to each, with each,

To loosen the tongues to tell the words in other far corners:

“Christ the New Born King is Come This Day

For to Love Us All, Bless Us All, Each and Every

Critter Unspected, each and every OutsideFolk Unspected.”

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So all the expected ones and the unexpected and incomplete ones joined as one before

The Babe with  Young Girl Mother, all still with waiting and still waiting

The weary world to come and find, to come and give, to come and wait, wait, wait.