The Finale of Grief
I miss the ocean with the ache
of a coming kingdom.
And I miss the purity of a Church
I can only anticipate.
In a day or a thousand years
we will see all the creatures
we never got to meet this
side of heaven.
As a friend of mine says,
“We will finally get to
hug a bear.”
And we will watch flowers grow,
the ones our yard rabbits ate away
before we could gather them into a bouquet.
In the coming kingdom, we will gather
the rabbits and the marigolds
in one scoop of our arms, and
sit with them under the same tree
where the lion naps beside the lamb.
Can you imagine?
There our tired bones will
settle down into the soft grass,
our fractured hearts will be mended
with everlasting thread.
And finally - finally we will feel
the conclusive rest of justice,
the satisfaction of bellies made full,
and the relief of shame evaporated,
sorrow eradicated;
the finale of grief.
All the family of God;
all of us adopted ragamuffins,
the former addicts of phones,
whiskey, and Amazon, of
selfish ambition, selfish sex,
and empty religious gestures,
The ones never picked first
will be at the front of the line
for heavenly manna. And we
who denied Jesus three times,
thirty times, almost every time,
will be given the keys to the
kingdom of God.
Can you imagine?
Cover image by Jonne Huotari.