Monday, November 8, 2010

Behold the Dawn

... for my son, James


Behold the dawn
sheathed within soft mantle;
mountains wholly secreted,
overwhelmed by heavens
bearing days of snow
not yet fallen.

From where shall my hope come?
Mountains I knew so well
have vanished,
obscured memories
grasping for clarity.
Only one glimpse would suffice;
assurance
of their very being,
of their magnitude,
of significance,
of hope.

Yet they remain,
unmoved.
Must I see them
to know they are there?
Must I have answers
to know hope?

As I ponder
gazing expectantly,
longingly,
the mountains, my mountains,
are refreshed,
renewed,
restored,
gathering nourishment for strength to endure
an endless storehouse for all of life;
there will be spring again.
But for now…

In time, my eyes will see
my mountains again
in all their inexpressible beauty;
for misty uncertainty,
pursued by the sun,
has no foundation,
no grasp.

And so it is
with hope.
~ae


"I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; 
from where shall my help come?  
My help comes from the Lord, 
Who made heaven and earth... 
He Who keeps you will not slumber."  
                                             ~Psalm 121:1-3

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