Deep Calls to Deep:  It is a Gift

The morning is still

Hot, humid, bright

With not a breath of air stirring

 

Occasionally, though, the stillness is punctuated

By a myriad of Birds

Going about their Sunday morning lives

Easy sounds that crescendo

With songs and chirps

Warbles and squawks

Jumps and flutters

 

I listen and I hear the mourning doves

Calling back and forth

From deep in the woods

Their calls and answers forlorn, but with purpose

Rise above the cacophony,

The clamor and clatter

Of all the other birds’ voices.

 

Coah, cooo, coo, cooo

 

Deep calls to deep.

It is a gift

 

I call out to you

From far deeper inside than the excitement of

New places and new adventures

From far deeper inside than

The self-discoveries and freedoms and plans of this last year

From far deeper than the sadness

That has lived in the recesses of my spirit

For longer than I can say

Welling up

When I think of the hurt and pain

That we inflict upon

Each other and others

All beloved children of God

The careless agony

That we spread

Over and under and through

The goodness of God’s creation

It is the depth where

I know and feel and breathe

The presence of God

Minute and vast

That swirls around us

Like a vortex of mercy and forgiveness

A depth

A Presence

That can shatter our conceit and fear

And stir up within us that

Which is the very heart of God

If we let it

If we embrace it

If we care

You and I

 

The coah, coo, cooo, coo

Heard in the deep that calls to deep

On this hot, humid, bright Sunday morning

It is a gift

A deep gift

From one mourning dove to another

From that mourning dove to another

And that mourning dove to another

Soothing and echoing back around

Encircling the whole woods

In the gift

 

In my soul, in my prayer

Deep calls to deep

It is a gift

That quietly murmurs

Through the thunders

And roars

And barrages

And crashing

And pealing

And detonation of a world

That seems out of control and doomed

But in reality is held even tighter

In God’s embrace

As the healing tears of God

Fall upon us

As the quiet sobs of God

Call us deeply

To justice

To hope

To mercy

To peace

To love

For each other and all the world

 

Deep calls to deep

It is my gift for the Holy One

It is my gift for the world

It is my gift for you

Do you hear?

 

Poem written 1-5 July 2019 with reference to Psalm 42:7

Mourning dove drawing 4 July 2019

© C. Alicia Randolph, 5 July 2019