Another Day Along the Way (originally written in 2011)

Another day,
The rain is falling hard, though beginning to slow:
Wind, thunder, and lightning started my day.
Sounds and sights:chrismaxwell_goodfriday
Clouds covering the light
From a morning sun shining our way
And birds sing as if they are expecting a nice day
In a small world
After all.
The storm reminds me of
Dangers, of
Change, of
Wind blowing our way,
Or winds blowing us away and away and away and away.
Redundancy of rituals can serve only as routine reminders of
Life stories from historical events
And ancient traditions.
Or they can help us revisit,
Help us remember and reflect.
Inspire us to review their original occurrences
For more than knowing about or recalling.
But to receive. To be renewed.
I contemplate and journal
A free verse version of
Verses of freedom which
Biblically, historically, and personally
Invade my stormy, rainy Friday
And remind me why we title this day of crucifixion, of death, of blood
Good Friday,
Of why we call this Friday Good.
Fingers tap letters on a keyboard
To provide words on a screen
To present a poetic meditation
Of remembering death as the payment for life
Remembering – a task and mental function not always easy for us –
Is that thought process and motion of visiting again a past experience.
Elements can help us recall. Ingredients can assist in our attempt of grasping
Again a glance back in time to view the present from a lens now cleansed.
Bread plus wine to remember.
Wind plus rain to notice.
Nouns plus verbs to reveal.
Thoughts plus prayers to confess.
Ancient plus modern to merge
History into the present,
His Story into my mind,
His Spirit into mine,
His Love into me.
The rain appears to be ending its fall:
Wind has paused; thunder and lightning have departed,
As I remember darkness from a former Friday
Becoming light.
Sounds? Sights?
Clouds giving space for light
From a morning sun to shine our way
And birds continue singing on Earth Day as they do each day
In a small world
After all.
The storm reminds me of myself
And my sins,
Of darkness shifting into light,
Or winds blowing away
Hate on this sad, painful, bloody Friday
We call Good.
Remembering – as participants rather than observers –
Allows that honor of visiting again a past experience.
In reverence, rejoicing.
In silence, shouting.
In death, coming alive.
Along the way,
Chris Maxwell
Powerful Statement: The life of Jesus was a life of love, which means that Jesus spent his life on earth reaching out to everyone, especially to those who were considered outcasts and undesirables. (Juliet Benner: Contemplative Vision)