PASSAGEWAYS

I pause briefly,
Inhaling the dust of antiquity.
Listening to the silence of the ages
I vaguely remember
The echoes of my footfalls
As I traverse the glassy granite floors.
My thoughts rush swiftly
On leopards’ paws.

Yesterday…
No, many yesterdays ago…
I felt the soft wet tickle of the Morning mist
And listened
To the wind song symphony,
Like tinkles of chimes
In a Japanese Garden.
Morning stars heralded
The first blades of grass.
Yesterday…
Only a few minutes ago …yesterday…
I cried.

First in sorrow
As the hammer pounded
And the blood trickled.
Not my blood and not just for me.
Second in joy
As my Lord conquered death & sin
And lived again.
Today…only a second or so ago…

I feel my heart’s thump,
Strong and steady in my chest.
I gaze upward, unafraid,
At the Sphinx that looms before me.

I know the answer to her riddle.
I remember crawling, then walking…and presently
I am at peace with the tap, tap,
tapping of my cane.

My Lord, the Curator of this museum,
When last he appeared
Along the path,
As he does prior to certain exhibits,
Whispered the answer to the riddle.

After sharing bread
And wine with me,
My Lord smiled warmly,
Then gently pressed
A finely gilded cedar cane
Into my trembling hands.
He said, “You have many more Exhibits yet to see.”

With his sacred promise
Ringing in my ears
I know that
The Sphinxes of Life
May delay
But will not stop my journey.
As his treasured words fade
I ponder the famous lines
Of Robert Browning,
“Come, grow old with me,
The best in life
Is yet to be.”

From Waysides Along the Journey: Spiritual Wisdom & Adventures in Literature ©2011

WTO 2/5/11