How Can We Know the Way Through? A Poem

A meditation on John 14 :1-7

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 

There is a path I can sometimes see in early morns or closing nights

When suns exit and enter,

Like silent giants taking over the landscape.

They bow their beauty toward the land

In reverent gifting

So I will know what they know.

Me? I tend to live in Mondays and Tuesdays.

I go about the hours and wonder which way is up,

Where to land,

Who will catch us when we all fall down?

There are hints of help through my window.

The solid wood floor my feet land upon at dawn,

Walls built up around me,

A roof to guard me from rain and heat,

Rooms to roam,

A table laid out in plenty,

A cup,

Bread.

It is as if this place I live

Has always been and ever will be,

And today is the first day of me seeing

The Way forward lives behind and before

Below and above,

On my right and my left,

And within,

A window left open, letting in a breath of light

To get past just getting through and by,

The center from which I have eyes to see the shining

Here with me.