Singular Witness to the Sacred Pulse

For ten thousand years and more
The limestone boulder rested
Against steep hillside, reflecting in
Slow, patient ways known to stone— rising from
Ocean depths, fashioned of ancient life,
Fallen first in clay then fossilized to rock,
Occasional shells and images of plants
Still visible, captured, bound in solid form.
 
No one ever informed the stone of its mission.
Perhaps it avoided ways of seeing its own destiny,
Blending into landscape, preserving prehistoric
Ruins as it praised the silence of passing time.
Sheltering past life for millions of years, compacted,
Mysteriously intensified by desert heat in barren
Endless conversation between ocean deep and
Scraping ice, wild Sun bearing down, cracking
Curvature, a shape that lacked symmetry, lacked beauty,
Lacked linear simplicity, stern of color, unremarkable,
Roughly holding secret purpose of such density,
No one had sufficient imagination to discern.
 
God’s eye has ways of seeing and seeking satisfaction
Unknown to human minds.  Within the Circle and the
Sphere, God finds a sacred use— never giving itself
Completely to the eye yet holds height and depth
Together, rolling mystery without beginning or end.
The light that day, so long ago, was surrealistic—
Reflecting, diffusing, enveloping, hiding hallowed secrets
As it rose across the hills, calling forth new frontiers,
Surprising Time itself with possibilities never seen before.
 
As lightening flashed and dark storms swirled,
Eternal hunger seemed to rise and seek direction.
Soldiers brought the broken body to the threshold—
A cave within the shadow of the hill used as crypt.
By torchlight laid the bloody body wrapped in cloth,
Then choose the hospitable stone to block the way,
Forever seal the entrance.  Without regard for reverence,
They strained, rolling the stone home.
 
The world of souls was dense and powerless to
Retrieve the life or penetrate depth of inner tomb.
Only in Absolute Abyss of darkness, with no need
For human desire or healing touch did Light gently
Open up the space, invade the hellish silence of death,
Befriend the dark with fragile care of Love and Grace.

Alone, the limestone boulder beheld the miracle—
Became singular witness to wordless unfolding,
Sacred pulse silently at work until Creation found
Fresh inner form, New Earth conceived…. 
Deeper meaning born within a holy spark,  
Forging something marvelous never seen before….
Stone overcame weight to move mass aside,
Revealed hope of life transformed,
Visible for the first time even to angels:
Strange possibilities exposed,
Breath splitting underworld asunder,
Finally completing the unreserved passion of God.

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2 thoughts on “Singular Witness to the Sacred Pulse

  1. wow…Fred you did it again….nature sees and celebrates what us mortals all too often are blinded to…what a wonderful way to proclaim such a proclaimable mystery.
    Good going, my friend.

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