Returned to Cana, the Word remembered…
A maiden world, her whole life before her
Potential abounding, yet stifled
By gloom, by chaos, by unruly seas and barren dust
Crying out in silence for purpose, for a future
And I, his delight, had my quest
Despatched for freedom and fecundity
And it was so.
And the Word questioned…
Elijah I knew, and Ezekiel I knew
But who is this whose cry now calls me forth?
I have visited these unruly people before
With their big wide future and their trampled justice
Their pride in paternity and wayward longings
And now – sheer disbelief?
And the Word realised…
No, this is the old story.
The void is back, down in Capernaum
Yawning over a boy.
His life as yet fruitless, barren
What might he never become?
And the cries of the desperate
Father who desired a future, not answers
Out from Cana, the Word sallied forth…
Through the unseen space ‘twixt cause and effect
Belief begat belief
Not returning empty, but succeeding:
Watering the face of the sick with colour
And warming with Easter sun
Remaking a world, returning a lost boy
Bringing forth life that would, one day, bring forth life
A man, to guard and keep the garden: talents, a family, the faith.
In secret, the Word returned…
The quest complete
The sign was done, the second
The wonder came later