How do you find the light staring into the hallway mirror at your twin? Can intimate teaching be found in the midst of farewell discourses in the entrance hall? How many ask themselves walking down the hall, Will this time be different? Where does the doorway outline shining at the end of the hallway come from?
What is a modern vision as opposed to keeping the old vision alive, moldering in some forgotten corner? How long must we err on the side of caution before coming to a decision to look for new ways of singing a joyful song? Must the professional sinners of failed repentance complete their terms before dipping into the well of happiness?
Wouldn't it be lovely if on the way to the why the steps of how would appear, one after the other?
Word that dances from mouth to mouth, bringing sound to silence and silence to sound, inquiry remains on our lips, like the divine smell of lilacs in the spring air, lightly lingering; share an answer we can live with and make it fierce because the fragrance of the questions stuns us into quietness. Amen.
Once again I am at my little writing desk that belonged to my grandmother, originally used for a sewing table, asking the wisps of air that dance before me. Only, questions come slower than they did just the day before. Is it the pollen that befuddles? Age? Or the moon not being in proper formation with the stars? Whatever question is asked, perhaps the answer lies in the yellow butterweed I see on the forest floor across the valley from where I sit and wonder.
How can there be talk of the absence of God when things move? Who wrote the narratives of power for this day last year? On what note does the awareness of privilege occur while listening to birds sing? Where is the cloud that stores up all the words to be spoken tomorrow?
How can one be led astray from idols of desire that never existed? How many bodies must be thrown on sticks of dynamite before all are safe? How do men who make flat pizza become rich enough to name stadiums? How is freedom found between feedings, cutting the grass and walking the dog? Corporate customer service wastes how many hours of my precious life?
Gospel of Matthew No questions Gospel of Mark Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb? Gospel of Luke Why do you look for the living among the dead? What are you discussing with each other while you walk along? Do you not know about the things that have taken place? What things? Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory? Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us? Why are you frightened? Why do doubts arise in your hearts? Have you anything here to eat? Gospel of John Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for? Have you believed because you have seen me? Friends, do you have any fish? Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love me? If it is my will that he remain, what is that to you? Book of Acts Why do you just stand here looking up toward heaven?
Is the setting sun on the horizon pushed by a hand or pulled with a thread? Is it the birds, disappearing at sunset, who do the pushing and the pulling? Is it the same sun using different sunrays that wakes me up to be alive every morning? With which sun does the child illuminate our tired and stooping, darkened postures?
Who decided to make the color brown brown and not the color of the blue jay? How many times must the blue door be opened before the cold air rushes in to visit? Where does dark blue of the winter sky begin before it falls into the horizon? Why was the blue dream I should have dreamed last night dreamed by another?