As was written,
our trials can be lengthy:
forty years of desert wandering,
forty days of shelter in the ark.
But I also think of Moses
forty nights on the mountain,
perhaps cowering at first,
shivering in a crevice,
surrounded by thundering voice
but ultimately
open, receiving.
He carried back radiance,
a glimpse of presence.
Now I search for radiance
(not in portents or the news)
but in bird flight,
in the changing colors of hours,
in beloved voices,
creative ways of helping, connecting,
prayers sung from balconies, extending
hearts beyond walls.
For walls are temporary, porous
to the radiance
that must pass between us
