Lent: Deep

The river is deep. We try to cross, but the water is cold and rises quickly. While our feet sink and stick in the mud, the water rises and chills our legs and our chest. Soon it will be over our heads. The wound is deep. We press our hands against it, but the blood keeps flowing. If edics cannot stop the bleeding, the patient is going to die. Thoughts are deep. As we ponder the twists and turns, time passes unheeded, first an afternoon, now a weekend, then a childhood. Grief is deep, like a river. There is no one to tears while he waits for his daughter to return. Loneliness is deep. The community has been torn away., And with a sense of belonging. Love is deeper. It offers a way past the river., out of grief and through the loneliness-to what’s on the other side