This Saturday, I was blessed to be part of a beautiful Lenten retreat lead by the Rev. Dale Custer that focused on the Annunciation in the midst of Lent. We all need to find our ways to carry God into the world. This poem is my present experience of trying to do that. I hope this Lent is moving you toward the empty tomb that wombs resurrection.



My Annunciation

My heart is stirring
And fearful to beat
It skips
Limps
Hardens.
Nearly lost,
I press through this broken travel that goes no where
Around
Except towards a halting death,
And -- dare I dream? -- I want that it goes deeper, lovelier, truer, and for others.
I wander a sand-filled wadi
Where the dry desert gravels rutted.
I cannot help but search for something here that will fear
And fill
The shallow
Emptiness.
But I will not pretend a false flash of water
Or a momentary seed breaking green
Only to whither and disappear as it rose.
This may be all there is, this fierce little valley that waits for the rain.
Perhaps that is all I need;
All that there is.
Like an empty tomb or a barren pregnancy
That echoes no longer with a hollow yearning
For an ordinary body
But beats surprised with the percussion that drums
And wombs hope in the silence.