In the land of silence
Our Creator shouts justice for us
On the slippery ground
Our Redeemer’s love holds us
Through the troublesome thorns
Our Sustainer cloaks our skin
When we are homeless, defenseless
Our Lady Wisdom is our stronghold
Our rock of refuge

On a beautiful Good Friday
I quelled impatience
To get on with my own agenda
And helped Mom sort memorabilia
Stripped the bed and washed the bed linens
Went to Lowes with Woody and bought garden flowers
And child gates to keep the dogs off the deck
Visited Betty
Sitting with her as she rambled
Through the past, present and never was
Nipped the heads off spent daffodils
Answered emails, banked online, ran errands
Moved through the mundane
Sometimes conscious of the divine
Moved through the divine
Sometimes conscious that it only seemed mundane

The young child
In the pew in front of me
Plays with a small magic eraser board

As Father preaches of the waiting time
Between Ascension and Pentecost

She fills her board
With elaborating scribbles
Creating her personal message to herself

As Father preaches waiting with purpose and prayer
For the Holy Spirit

Then she slides a button
And wipes her slate clean
With no warning, no fanfare, no command

As Father preaches filling our selves, our lives
With the Holy Spirit, Christ in us

And she begins again
Intently filling all empty spaces
Randomly but not without purpose

As Father finishes, telling us by faith alone
Will the world be renewed

Her mother reaches down and slides the button
Gathering up the child and her newly blank slate
The family quietly leaves

As Father retreats behind the altar
To the bread and wine

And I wonder
When my scribbling
Is wiped clean
How quickly do I
Fill it again?