That which is most universal is most personal, indeed there is nothing human which is strange to us.
-Nouwen

The harvest is here...

The harvest is here...
The kingdom is near...

Saturday, October 24, 2009

The death of a Lama: a little red dog on a little red street

People lined like so many ants around a dropped crumb

Chattering, crying, complaining, consoling...

A death stiffened corpse sitting upright with covered visage

Decaying, disrupting, deceiving, discouraging...

Buses rerouted, students sneak out, hours in the viewing line pass like
glaciers on an icy sea.


Delight for buzzards, disaster for pilgrims: a burial

Finishing, frustrating, forgetting, foreboding...

Chalked streets fade and mournful crowds disperse

Ruining, remaining, relaxing, returning...

The Lama died... evidence? a little red dog trots down a little red street.



He has promised to bring the good work that He started in you to completion...
And He's more committed to that than you are.

Are they looking out or in?