Irreparable

On days like this, when two guys from two different companies stand in my garage and declare the spring that lifts that old, heavy door, irreparable. When one good friend weeps inconsolably to me about all that is irreparable in her life. And when I think of all those sick and dying and fighting...

and the whole world

seems irreparable...

I ache for You. Close my eyes
to the wind. Listen to the scritch scratch
of dry oak leaves and little thsk thsk
sounds of squirrel's feet
and a soft chrr chrr in the pine
and the rush of air
against the landscape.

And I remember that dark place
when the earth was formless
and void and Your Spirit
was a wind blowing across
the waters, whispering to the
chaos your deep conviction

that it was not

irreparable.