You and I have spoken all these words, but as for the way we have to go, words
are no preparation. There is no getting ready, other than grace. My faults
have stayed hidden. One might call that a preparation! I have one small drop
of knowing in my soul. Let it dissolve in your ocean. There are so many threats to it.
Inside each of us, there’s a continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out
over the water. A crow sits in the blackened limbs and talks about what’s gone. Then
your generosity returns: spring, moisture, intelligence, the scent of hyacinth and rose
and cypress. Joseph is back! And if you don’t feel in yourself the freshness of
Joseph, be Jacob! Weep and then smile. Don’t pretend to know something you haven’t experienced.
There’s a necessary dying, and then Jesus is breathing again. Very little grows on jagged
rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are. You’ve been
stony for too many years. Try something different. Surrender.