The Care of Spirit by Liz Marshall

On Thursday we met

tired bodies

worn down spirits

trying to find a place to plant their feet

but the ground was shaking

 

On Saturday

cold, damp wind rushed through the door

as I wondered

whether the fire could be lit

and if we were ready

to enter

 

That night was

the thresholds that we cross

the slow spread of light

from candle to candle

the holy spirit

working through us

 

It was

the heartbeat of infants

whose same hearts were beating

inside their mother’s wombs

when I entered into that place

the first time

 

As the waters of baptism

trickled down their foreheads

rivers flowed down many faces

of the people that surrounded

new life was here

 

And I finally understood

that this is what Easter looks like.