Scarred

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I feel like I should promise not to highlight anymore sunset-over-the-mountain photos, but I just can’t… each one, even if it is a bit cloudy like this one, is so unique–so glorious. We are enjoying the sunsets from our veranda here. Truly, “the heavens declare the glory of God… ”

I had a thought during worship the other day and then a thought when I saw the sun fade behind this mountain, so I combined them into this poem.

Scarred

As old as earth’s core
and as new as the morning,
an ancient, glorious garment is stretched
over heavenly rafters each dawn.
Pale sapphire by day and ink by night,
the timeless tapestry hangs heavy upon timber cross-beams,
concealing the home of God.

Yesterday as the sun faded behind the mountains,
the seam between heaven and earth split
for a few seconds, the fabric frayed and worn from
folding and refolding day after day.
Through the crack, I saw light sparkle
upon a crystal river,
a hand move, and the wound on a heart.

The weight of the world lifted
in the twilight as a gray cloud stitched
the seam shut and closed the glory spout.
In the alabaster flutter of wings,
silver beads were sewn to the velvet
night and twinkled over the mended rip.

And in the morning when the sky folded
open again, the leak of an azure heaven flawlessly healed,
leaving me scarred by the beauty of a Face,
I have never seen.


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