The house is gone -
the threshold over which
we welcomed and set forth...
has disappeared into memory.
The safety of our bedroom,
where we cosy-ed up together...
is remembered in the comfort touch.
Our resting place must be each other's hearts.
The gifts given and received,
signs of stories shared from across generations and divides,
are crisped beyond recognition.
The things we saved for
or planned for
or created
are gone.
We are homeless.
yet - we pray the courage to rebuild a home...
perhaps in that place, perhaps not...
in some ways, it matter not.
Our home must be carried in our souls now.
Home is no longer fixed and secure.
We have become nomads,
but finding a core, built of survival.
We enter a new era - a time to make home
in spirit and in truth.
It is not courage that drives us forth.
It is hope for renewal,
hope that follows the shoots of green, only seen
springing forth
from destruction and desolation.
At any other time, new shoots would
camouflage themselves beyond our reckoning.
Not now.
Now we are exposed.
Now we are seen in all our vulnerability.
We pray for courage
to face each next step.
We pray for comfort
in the face of loss and shock.
We pray for shelter
from the memories
and the fear of an uncertain future.
We pray for provision
in abundance.
We give thanks for those who care.
We give thanks for those who defend.
We give thanks for life.
Amen
(C) A A Koh-Butler, 2020
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