The Revelation, The Rivers, The Re-creation

 The Revelation, The Rivers, The Re-creation

The gates of the fortress were tightly barricaded

  I stood outside pounding and shouting

    but I knew no one was coming to open them

I crumpled into the dust outside the walls

  sitting there for days, weeks, years

  hopelessly wishing to find a way in

Believing that surely I could scale the heights

  or pry open the way I once knew

As emptiness filled the passing time

  I felt like an outcast, a leper,

  begging for some morsel of sustenance

To somehow temper the hunger and ache

  in my belly and in my heart

Winds of desolation howled in my mind

Storms of grief assaulted my soul

  producing a disorientation and despair

    previously unknown

There in the hell of this dark night

  I released a primal cry to the heavens

Suddenly in the shadowland came a strong

  but gentle whisper, first to my spirit, “Peace!”

  then to the storms and winds, “Be still!”

An abrupt calm swept over me, around me

  and just as swiftly, I fell into a deep sleep

I have no idea the length of my slumber

  but I was awakened by sweet sounds of birds singing

  with a gentle breeze on my cheek

  a bright sun and the scent of lavender in the air

On the ground beside me lay a pilgrim’s staff

  a water flask, a wine flask, and fresh unleavened bread

The same gentle voice, whispered once again

“Arise and eat, it’s time to go on from this place.”

“And go where, Lord?”

“Arise, go on, it will unfold.”

I took the bread, broke it, blessed it, and ate.

  its heavenly taste was beyond description

I sipped the wine and felt life and joy flowing within

I drank deeply the water

  a most refreshing sweetness in every swallow

Before me now appeared an endless trail

  I took the staff and journeyed on

Days and weeks passed, I continued to wander

  often coming upon other pilgrims

  who would all tell me of storms, heartaches

     and hearing the same voice

They would all convey that they had heard of a City

  where flowed in its midst the River of Life

I thought, “This must the Way that I’m walking.”

Losing track of time, I simply kept moving on

Pausing at a brook for a drink

  I came upon a gray haired pilgrim

 whose appearance was younger than her years

There was a keen light still in her eyes

  but it was apparent that her journey

    had been long and lonely

“Good day Pilgrim, are you alone?” I asked

“Unfortunately, my companion died years ago,

   but I have gotten used to my own company.”

“Mine still lives, but what we shared is no more;

    may I join you for a while?”

    she consented, so we tread on together

Conversation came freely, easily

   rapidly, common threads and dreams emerging

The Way went ever on, and jointly we continued

  both keenly aware of some growing connection

More than mere attraction, a deep bond began to form

  both struggling with the idea of divine providence

Then unexpectedly the Way took a sharp course change

  not so much a fork but the trail moved along a cliff

A sign along the path read “The Safe Route”

  but another sign at cliff’s edge read

   “Leap of Faith, River of Love”

With very little hesitation, we looked at each other

   smiled, nodded and stepped over the precipice

After quite a drop we plunged deeply into the river

   a cold, rapidly moving stream

 Rising to the surface we held on to each other

   caught our breath and rode the current

The exhilarating ride went on for some time

   with us floating, clinging, laughing

Until we began to hear the roar, with little warning

   we rushed over a waterfall and careened down

Deep down into the river

   where we could not hold our breath

Still there was no fear, and that small voice came again

“Drink deeply and find true life, true love,

   for life is not you in the river, but the river in you.”

Stillness and peace washed over us

   as we stood hand in hand, breathing living water

   walking on the river bed in a crystal clear flow

The River of Love was indeed the River of Life

   and most assuredly, the River was the Way

   and the lonely pilgrims were now companions, lovers

That which had been before the plunge was no more

   a new day had dawned, a new thing created

The River washed out old wounds, pains and sorrows

   new life, new love, a new making all flowed in

The pilgrims knew that the One, the still small voice

   had rescued them, joined them, re-created them

Gratitude flooded their hearts, praise rose up

   as they committed to ever worship Him

      and to always love each other

 

mark. d. cooke