Each talk, a risk, an opening of our own true self
before the congregation, the pilgrims
But his was different, at least by measure
His pain, shared with us, a bit more real
a bit more courageous, more raw
Sharing the lost of her, the tragic, senselessness
a moment, poignant and true, galvanized
stilling us in our tracks, there with him,
seeing ourselves, fleetingly, in our shoes
What if it was our child . . .
some other fathers thought
His story, the rest of the story, a victory
a climbing up from the pit of despair
brought into the loving arms of our father
coming home, like the prodigal son;
but going beyond, understanding the whole of the story
by his deep personal witness, shared with us
April 7, 2008
Walk to Emmaus
No comments:
Post a Comment