Seeking: A Poem
Three verses as we near the end of the wilderness of Lent
My heart is a desert And I’m sitting on the edge of it Peering into the black. The fire is burning low And the rifle lies empty and light in my lap As the coyotes begin to howl. My mind is a forest That I have lost for the trees In which the birds once dwelt But they have stopped their singing And the shadows are deep and long Hiding creatures with hungry eyes. My soul is a wilderness Into which I’ve wandered Seeking out the secret And hidden way back to life. Christ, I beg you: make camp here And wait with me Until the dawn.
In some ways, this poem unknowingly marked the beginning of Postcards from the Wilderness. Back in September of 2023, I began a six week sabbatical from a position as staff music director at my church. I had been serving in the role for seven and a half years at that point, and although I knew I badly needed the time of rest, I don’t think I realized just how badly until the time actually arrived.
What followed felt like a period of mental clarifying, emotional thawing out, and the beginnings of a spiritual awakening. Put differently, sometimes you don’t really discover how much you’ve been holding onto until you’re finally able to start laying it down.
Toward the end of my time away, as I prepared to return to my position, I wrote this poem, somehow representing both how I began and ended those short but transformative six weeks. Today, nearly three years later, I find it also resonates with how I’m approaching the end of these forty days of Lent.
Hold on. Daylight is coming.