Shape and Substance

For my siblings in the United Methodist Church
 
Things divide
 and fall apart
 that once were one
 at heart.

 Streams divide
 when points of land
 refuse to move, 
 demand

 new channels form,
 however hard
 the parting ways.
 Ill-starred

 though it may seem,
 the future’s share
 is neither dream nor
 nightmare.

 Island shores
 amid the flow
 appear eternal.
 But slow,

 beneath the waves
 an inkling change,
 and waters over time
 arrange

 to wash downstream
 what once seemed sure.
 Water—not the land—
 endures.

 Divided things
 once held apart
 will yet be one
 at heart.

We Who Are Alive
1 Thessalonians 4:17; Mark 11:13
 
We who are alive
wait for fig trees to bear fruit.
Not yet time for figs.
 
Temples not torn down
wait still for their rebuilding.
Three days is not long.
 
No sign of rain, but 
clouds of possibility
gather in the east.
 
Therefore encourage
one another with these words.
It is time for figs.