Hopeful

Re-posting a poem from two years ago:

 A Divine Intervention, New Years Eve

So close, so close, these women and men,
close to me in this tiny lounge in this huge,
huge Church building, this small, fragile church
people, these powerful people of God.

So close I have been times in the past, but
blessed, blessed to move on, move in, blessed
in this world, blessed to listen and live in
this fragile, small community of light.

So close, so close, these women and men,
so close they came to this communal,
fettered life–how many times?–before they
came to this life, free and yet fettered.

Walking with the poor, the free and yet fettered,
free and enslaved, owned and controlled,
alive and yet distant, we are so close
in this warm, warm lounge, Crosby and
Hope crossing eons and with us too.

So close the Word was with me today, now
on the table in front of me, all night
in people around me, God’s guests,
God’s folk, so close beside me, around me.

So close, I hear their quiet conversations,
so close, I hear their pleas for families,
abandoned, dependent, alive and apart.

So close, I hear anger flair so
rarely, but so near to the surface, so close,
so tight, so sore and still calloused, so
lonely even as so close.

In the night-time deep, so close to sleep,
mother was near, quiet and warm, and
I wondered if I was asleep. Sleep was silent,
but it was two ay-em.

So near to sleep, but I arose, unable to
sleep, to wander the halls a while and
hear the breathing so close.

So close, so close, these women and men,
close to me in the blessed wing of this huge,
huge church building. We are so close here.

And now, O glorious and blessed God,
you are mine, and I am yours. So be it!

(c) Tom Bolton, 31 December 2011, Unity