We groan

After Romans 8:12-25

We groan within,

a racking of the soul, 

a piercing of the heart,

a stifled scream, for

what we know is

coming, the changes

promised, a new heaven

and a new earth,

a new father and

a new body,

a realization of hope

for the unseen, a hope

promised and anticipated,

a hope enshrouded

with patience. That is

what we groan for.

Photograph by Camila Quintero Franco via Unsplash. Used with permission.

It was the wind

After Romans 8: 22-29

It was the wind I noticed

first, as it increased

from breeze before

it progressed to storm,

the wind carrying all

before it, sweeping away

what was to leave space

for what will be, its noise

a groaning in my ears,

a groaning so harsh it tears

at the heart of my soul,

stripping away the clay

so carefully constructed,

exposing the nakedness

to cleanse, to clothe,

to lift up.

Photograph by Jacob Ufkes via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Groans

After Romans 8:22-29

It comes deeply,

this groan, a tearing

of the soul, a pain

coming from the waiting

for the healing, promised.

The dove flies into the groaning,

itself groaning in words

inexpressible, simultaneously

deflecting, interceding, searching

a parallel responsibility

to prick, to stimulate, to strip

away even as the interceding

continues without ceasing,

continues with groans too deep

to comprehend.

We wait as the shaping

and molding continue,

creating a work forever

unfinished. The waiting,

too, is a work, if not

of art then certainly

a work designed to be

in progress, and we know

this is true because

we know in hope, a mother

awaiting the gestation,

a child awaiting the arrival

of its father, the hands

holding, the arms

enfolding, home,

here.

Photograph by Joe Gardner via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The groaning

The groaning

   dem chains

the groans

   dem bonds

moaning in the morning sky

   dem chains

The sound is too great,

overwhelming the soul

dem chains

He moves to open

the newspaper; despite

a strong will and

fierce determination,

he leaves it untouched.

The groans, ignored,

do not stop.

He turns his face

to the wall but sleep

does not come

until he understands

the groaning are

an indication of hope,

his own hope,

for the hopeless

do not groan.

The groanings of the hopeful

are realized this day.

It is not only redemption

it is not only salvation

it is also restoration

this day, the restoration

amid the groaning.

It is here:

this day.

Photograph by Anna Langova via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.