Matthew 17: 1-5

"As They Looked on, a Change Came over Him"

Which
one Heaven,
which one Earth,
each’s seeming the
mirror reflection of the other,
each’s image and likeness
and raiment
transfigured as on
Mount Tabor – strikingly
white, blinding the
eyes of those who from the
waters and clouds
the voice of God
heard…

Cedars

(Matthew 19, John 2)

So this is my Shepherd’s gate,
the entrance to which certainly is not
what I had anticipated — the eyelet of a
needle for a camel to impossibly
navigate! But rather have emerged
the soft colors of gold and green, caught
in the autumn light of an
end-of-afternoon, cedar dream.
And a tear washes my cheek,
overcome by the unmerited, sweet
mercy which grace in beauty has
bathed me! Thus I realize at this very
late hour, was revealed the
delicate veil which gives access to
Cana’s wedding feast and
shaded bower…

Song of Solomon 2:1

“I Am the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the Valleys”

“I have not come to call the
righteous, but sinners to repentance,” ^*
and thus defines the essential
appeal of Jesus, His compassion and
His mercy, and why so many in
the crowds would press around Him,
clutching at His garments,
as if His words were falling
upon good soil in the heretofore
barren desert of their ears,
and multiplying in each their hearts
a Rose of Sharon – beautiful
in hope, and in purity oblivious to
mortal anxieties and fears.

“Ephphatha”*

"Open Up"

Down, down deep
into the depths I plunge,
sounding for the bottom in fathoms
dive to expunge.

Down, down deep
the water courses over me, in
protective rush of foam
across my eternity.

Down, down deep
my body points in arrow flight,
single in its purpose, its
object out of sight.

Down, down deep
a veil awaits, through the
eye of a needle the thread of a camel
still to navigate. **

Luke 8: 43-48

"Who Touched Me?"

Lord, there You are — the
Only-Begotten Son of God,
the Word, the Word Made Flesh,
the Word Incarnate,
the Lamb of God … And
You are veiled behind this small,
metallic, tabernacle door, and
I am alone with You, and
all I have to do is to open the
tabernacle door, not
with a key but with
my heart, or to just lightly
touch the exterior metal, like
the woman with the
chronic bleed once did with
the hem of Your garment — from
whence You felt an
indescribable rush of
Your power into her flesh,
stoppering her bleed
forever, while around You the
crowd continued its
seemingly inexhaustible,
irrepressible press.