Loss and Hope, Tim Knipp; Gen. 3:21; Ez, 36:34; Song of Sol. 1:15, 2:13; I Kings 6; Rev. 22:1-2

We lost a way of being
and often, 
reaching
for a presence 
that used to comfort,
touch air
and 
aching absence.

An unmet yearning
throbs
beneath the current
of life,
pulsing out
reminders 
of dislocation.
But look closely,
see the tiny thread
of golden hope
sewing up the wounds,
igniting zeal,
suggesting 
the possibility
that work may once again
satisfy;
that love might flourish
and finally
be enough;
that men and women
might stand side by side,
co-laborers in the garden.

Since our ousting,
God has pined for our presence,
his loss 
as gaping as our own.
So He turned the flaming sword
upon Himself:
willing to endure further pain,
the dissecting of His soul,
to meet with us again;
to talk face-to-face
and walk
along streets glistening
with gold
under ruby-flowered trees.