rebuilding the broken altar

on the cracked foundations of this former house
we come to remember that which once was
with the splintered stone of this broken altar
we burn our beginnings
inhaling the smoke
of wilted-root kindling

on the tear-soaked carpet of the kitchen floor
or the bloodied grass of the back yard
underneath the rusty trampoline springs
we found her, and rushed her to the ER
and while the findings were not encouraging
we were thankful it wasn’t worse
we wept and stared
and she played
and laughed

a defining moment lacking clarity

in the pillaged wreckage of our former glory
we heard the ecstatic whispers in the night
and we brought our uncut stones to ground zero
stacking them bleary-eyed as the clock said 03:00
the AM dot like a third eye
peering out mystified
in the longness of shadows
we rebuilt Your altar
and prayed
and laughed
and fell back asleep

the morning’s alarm like cathedral bells

the eggs burnt like an offering
the broken car a reminder of our limits
the laughter of Nicole and Kyrie
like a chorus of seraphim
the sizzling of pancakes
and sweet batter smell
of fluffy goodness

a reminder that good things happen
almost as randomly as bad things

I can see the former as gifts, but the latter will take time

nonetheless, I am frozen
in that moment on that morning
with you asking me why I was
grinning and I didn’t know

but now I know that the former glory and the latter glory
were connected somehow by the holy one in our midst
and the present dryness is the temporary state

we come to rebuild this broken altar
help us not be deferred by idealized memories
nor by projected vaporous prospects
but help us bring every moment to you;
the tears and smiles
the joys and the sorrows
and the emotions we can’t even identify

untangle our prayers
untangle our pasts
let this altar flame
let this heart come alive


~ by shardsofeternity on May 19, 2010.

One Response to “rebuilding the broken altar”

  1. […] the tear-soaked carpet of the kitchen floor or the bloodied grass of the back yard underneath the rusty trampoline springs we found her, and […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: