AT Last – Farewell
The photo from the printer came
So now the end appears – the same
As when I left the Rez that year;
It was okay – I shed no tear.The “St. John” picture, one of five
Of healing those in bush – alive
It was with Spirit, cosmic force;
I took the shot, moved on, of course.In our new town, in darkroom dim,
The print emerged – it's shape first thin
Then formed there in that scented soup –
A time of prayer for those in group.The hair on back of neck rose up;
A surge of Spirit through me shocked;
God’s parting gift to me that day
In picture framed what words can't say.So too that night of last farewell
To group who'd walked with me through hell;
“What do you need? – feel image rise
Then let it flow into our eyes”.I saw two ribbons rise, entwined,
From rubble-rock, now close inclined;
One short, one tall, my wife and I –
To come back close – such need have I.For when we bruised and battered get,
We often crust-up, longing, yet
Unable to reach out, be reached,
Our castle walls need outside breach.That picture then of imaged clay
Was gift of God to us that day –
To folks of clay, now intertwined,
In soul, and spirit, body, mind.Lord, as we now this journey take,
Grant we might of this love partake;
Shuck from our lives all past defence,
And grace us with your Providence.Thanks.
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