I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.
Luke 19:40
In this temporary sanctuary
Granted permanence in the sacred imagination
We arrive as ruins yet unearthed
Hollowed and broken scraps
Cherished monuments to our Creator and Culmination
To worship One as foreign as our self-knowledge
And as familiar as our foundered dreams
Who will assemble our fragments
Into a cracked and fragile whole
Dig us up, O God,
And sort us out
Interpret our meaning and usefulness
To those who will come after
But stymie the worship of silent stones
Monuments to men's mercurality.
Rather, out of the cracked lips of these placid rocks
Narrate our entwined history
And suffer us our partiality.
Prayer
May we not be silent:
In our praise,
in our cry for justice,
in our pleas for peace.
May we not be silent:
In our words of love,
in our questions and doubts,
in our sorrow and anger.
May we not be silent until your Kingdom comes
in final victory over all creation. Amen.
Amy Morgan (2014)
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