Joshua Keiter

After the storm
And strong winds
We heard prayers
There was snow 
And sunshine 
And in person 
On the screens
Our faces aglow

Little wonder 
As we wander 
Through wondrous 
How the word
Became whole 
For a weary world 
Woven into birth
The soul felt its worth

I cannot wrap 
My head around 
Like a present 
All the sadness 

And not ordinary 
Normal sadness 
Most people feel 
This time of year 

But the overwhelming 
When will it end 
That has accumulated
Like time piling up 

So many distances 
Between one and 
The other but also 
Closenesses that leap 

Even across decades 
An old factory that 
Makes identical copies 
Imperceptibly different 

For each recipient 
Somehow it all feels
Abundant here when 
We cannot be there 

Perhaps the only gift 
We have is to hold 
Onto this soon to be 
Discarded wrapping paper 

And save it for another time

Even our stories 
Are warning us 
Their repetition 
Is no way to stave 

Off loss while
New stories are 
Being born every 
Second we await 

The telling of 
Familiar breath 
Candlelit gossamer 
Paved afternoons 

Where we live to 
Bring back to life 
Perpetual potential 
For the sake of 

Redeeming the world 
An empty cradle 
Carrying blank words 
Echoing the shock 

Of the word made

The clouds obscure 
So far 

The conjunction in the sky 
And both 

Have not been so close to 
Our eyes 

In eight hundred years 
Or else

A blink of a planet at 
Arm’s length 

So close together they appear 
As one 

Some might call a harbinger 
Of change 

Nevertheless they are still really 
Far away

The night has gone
As far as it could 

Only to discover 
It hastens the light 

A finger pointing 
At the moon 

Is just as close 
As your hand 

Made of star stuff 
No one saw coming

Out of the unexpected brush 
Along the path we were not sure 
Was a path appeared a lone deer 
Then two three maybe four 
We approached as silently 
As we could even the runner 
Behind us had their phone out 
Taking pictures as we were when 
A sudden jolt and the fourth 
Was separated from the others 
For a second I thought the deer 
Would dash straight into me 
Instead it turned and headed 
Down the path until the path 
Was no longer a path but a stream 
There to find their companions 
We hoped they would not be 
Distant from each other for long

Hope awakens 
To realize 
In a year filled 
With such silences

That music arises 
From the source 
Of creation 
Which is stillness 

Breaking through 
The veil of darkness 
Into the light
Of holy song 

Sung by separate 
Voices together 
Until the sound 
Reaches us still 

Still shocked by the radio 
Transition between 
A broken hallelujah and 
What a wonderful world 

Not only did the shared 
Chords please the Lord 
They rang with bitter truth 
That until your eyes sting 

With a wellspring of tears 
You cannot see trees of green 
Or red roses too bloom 
Without the dark sacred night 

Lighting the slipstream path 
As we venture into the mystic

Ghosts not only live 
On the periphery 
Of memory 
So long unrecalled

Often they arrive 
One loss after another 
To speak of days 
Heretofore unseen 

Unheard they whisper 
In tones too deep for words—
I was a ghost once too 
Now I live in you