Now looks radiant, dressed in white, holy moment
Pregnant with possibility
Expectant flesh and bone
Deliverer of new life, new mercies
And she is fragile, tender, a living breathing paradox
She must be opened, spent
Used up, poured out to manifest her full worth
What is not gathered up and lived out, does not roll over
And accumulate in
A pile of tomorrow,
No gathering of nows, saved and stockpiled
For a four week vacation
Now beats to the rhythm of sweet urgency
Though a lady
She waits for all to come to her, in the tick tock minutes
As hands on clock can not keep still
They must swing around, keep the beat
Clockwise, clock steady
Compels us to be fully present in the sea of possibility
Open the curtain, unwrap
The crinkle bright shiny of her dressing,
Unveil the waiting
And live with her, rejoicing.
Creating beauty out of the given.
Seeking the buried right under the surfaces of her linen coverings
Wrapping our hearts in the warmth of her pleasant embrace.
Looking for all that hangs from the tree of her offering
For the picking, the gracious taking
And the generous release
Now are the days of our lives
Now are the days of our full blown living
God gifts generously as this earth turns, tides break, and hearts beat
All eyes on her, spotlight shines bright on her
Act one begins
The play of life
The times of your lives
Thank and live
In the Advent of our nows
And stand with loud applause
Sing sweet praise
At all that is
Worthy of a hallelujah chorus
Joining Emily for her Imperfect Prose
4 thoughts on “Now”
Elizabeth, such a surpise to unwrap this gift of beauty, now…
I will also share this with my ladies at tea today.
Blessings, and thank you for reminding me of this precious gift always here.
Yes, this hope that is now and forever! Elizabeth, continually grateful for the ways we speak back and forth to each other in our writing. Such a gift. Thank you for this package, enough for today. Thankful.
The not rolling over part….that is what gets me. What is not spent is simply lost. Please, Lord, open me to this moment.
“in the advent of our nows.” LOVE LOVE LOVE this line, you gorgeous writer, you.