I need the grit of it to scrub my soul, the weight of it to break open the places
weariness has settled in my very bones
I need to stand in the crowd, shouting Hosanna, believing my voice means something
Towards justice, and peace, and truth
I need to rail against the patriarchy and feel the usurped power in the tipping of tables
I need to gather with friends around the table; to hold the deep knowing of something coming, but tangibly grasping the comfort of the familiar-
bread, cup, community.
I need to stumble into the anguish of Gethsemane,
pleading, searching, knowing
I need to weep with the women at the foot of the cross,
in the grief and the crushing brokenness of a world gone dark
I need to drift in the in-between time; in the liminal space of done but not yet finished,
body rung out, void of emotion, sitting in holy silence.
I need to step into the pale light of dawn in the garden,
bare feet on cool grass, toes digging into mud, Bird song promising abundance
I need to encounter the gardener, to hear Him call my name,
to promise there is more, this isn't the end,
to remind me of HOPE….
I need to run on feet fueled by joy to proclaim
“I have seen the Lord”
March 31, 2023. Rev. Erica Koser