Bring to Light the Mystery: No Before or After

Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise.
You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy!
For your dew is a dew of light
Isaiah 26:19

Now in the blessed days of more and less
when the news about time is that each day
there is less of it I know none of that
as I walk out through the early garden
only the day and I are here with no
before or after and the dew looks up
without a number or a present age
~W. S. Merwin “Dew Light” from The Moon Before Morning

Dear March—Come in—
How glad I am—
I hoped for you before—
Put down your Hat—
You must have walked—
How out of Breath you are—

~Emily Dickinson

It seems I measure time by calendar page turns.

A “before” is turned under, covered up by what comes “after.”
Day follows day, week follows week, month follows month, for now…

What I am aware of is how diminishing time is, how I live more and more in the “after.”

Each new month seems to arrive “out of breath.”

So I look to the sky to watch the sun come and go,
as the moon rises and sets, knowing it will always be so.

The morning dew light blesses me now, no before or after.
It is sent by the Lord; I feel breathless as witness.

How can this not always be the way of things?

This year’s Barnstorming Lenten theme is Ephesians 3:9:

…to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God, who created all things…

No Before or After

Now in the blessed days of more and less
when the news about time is that each day
there is less of it I know none of that
as I walk out through the early garden
only the day and I are here with no
before or after and the dew looks up
without a number or a present age
~W. S. Merwin “Dew Light” from The Moon Before Morning

Dear March—Come in—
How glad I am—
I hoped for you before—
Put down your Hat—
You must have walked—
How out of Breath you are—

~Emily Dickinson

I measure time by calendar page turns…

there is less left of time each day
as I look to the sky to see the sun come and the sun go

I greet the new month as the old one passes
reminding myself there won’t be another like it

The morning dew light fades without a before or after
only a moment of blessing
now.

How can this not be the way of things?