Sunday, April 16, 2017

Lee van laer - Until we die of gratitude



I am not sure
But I think I will come to that last place
Shrouded, covered in the habit
Of monks and nuns, head bowed down
In awe before a majesty of substance;

The chemistry of breathing
Back to infancy, and life
Re-weaving threads until they form
A different pattern than the one
I thought I knew so well.

The stars will fade, then grow again
Into a greater light that loves—
Loves so much I cannot be
With it, yet also cannot leave—
And we will come together

Over the earth, the heavens, traveling
At such great speed that even
The soul itself cannot keep up,
No longer needed
In the final rush to God.

As I know the molecules
Of Being are one substance
With the Father, from whom
All things are made,
I'll know it even better then;

Give thanks for small things,
Which penetrate us
Blessing after blessing,
Until we die of gratitude.
So it begins.

—Lee van laer
Senior editor Parabola magazine
 


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