A poem
Debtors by jim harrison
They used to say we're living on borrowed
time but even when young I wondered
who loaned it to us? In 1948 one grandpa
died stretched tight in a misty oxygen tent,
his four sons gathered, his papery hand
grasping mine. Only a week before, we were fishing.
Now the four sons have all run out of borrowed time
while I'm alive wondering whom I owe
for this indisputable gift of existence.
Of course time is running out. It always
has been a creek heading east, the freight
of water with its surprising heaviness
following the slant of the land, its destiny.
What is lovelier than a creek or riverine thicket?
Say it is an unknown benefactor who gave us
birds and Mozart, the mystery of trees and water
and all living things borrowing time.
time but even when young I wondered
who loaned it to us? In 1948 one grandpa
died stretched tight in a misty oxygen tent,
his four sons gathered, his papery hand
grasping mine. Only a week before, we were fishing.
Now the four sons have all run out of borrowed time
while I'm alive wondering whom I owe
for this indisputable gift of existence.
Of course time is running out. It always
has been a creek heading east, the freight
of water with its surprising heaviness
following the slant of the land, its destiny.
What is lovelier than a creek or riverine thicket?
Say it is an unknown benefactor who gave us
birds and Mozart, the mystery of trees and water
and all living things borrowing time.
Would I still love the creek if I lasted forever?
Borrowed time we say we all are living.
The first reading today reminds us of the destiny that awaits when time gives way to eternity. There will no more time.
St. John describes the descent of the bride of the lamb, "He took me in spirit to a great high mountain and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God. It gleamed with the splendor of God. Its radiance was like the of a precious stone, like jasper, clear as crystal. It has a massive high wall, with twelve gates where twelve angels were stationed an don which was inscribed the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel...the wall of the city had twelve courses of stones as its foundations, on which were inscribed the twelve Apostles of the lamb."
Heaven is a bustling city filled with life teaming and diverse.
Many say that when they arrive in heaven they will have questions for God. I know have put a way few for the journey so that when I arrive i too may stand i line with my bag of questions waiting for the answers.
I am sure we all have questions, one or two or more.
But what of the questions God will ask? But what of the questions God has in store for us?
Rather than thinking about our questions and the answers we will be wanting to get our hands and mind around, perhaps we should begin to think of the questions God's gaze will ask us in the silence uproar of love that waits.
He might ask, "why did not love your neighbor?" "Why did you not forgive?" Was your cross any different than my son's?" "Why did you reject my church?" "You say you were spiritual and not religious, what does that mean anyway?" "So, life doesn't begin at conception, really?" "Where were you when I was in prison, or sick, or lonely, o hungry, or thirsty...?
These are the questions we should ponder while we have this borrowed time!
"Let us love God, but with the strength of our arms, in the sweat of our brow." St. Vincent de Paul
No comments:
Post a Comment