Today, we have our third Holy Week poem from Chris Fosten. It is another cracker, and this time we have also included a link to him reading it to us.
This poem feels deeply suitable for this point of our journey through Holy Week. It is a poem of our own Gethsemane. A poem of those places where absence is overcome by presence.
Something Whose Name is Forever, by Chris Fosten
I do not often see
which thing it is
that I crossed paths with
today that carried eternity.
I only know that
it will have drifted by
on a breeze or dashed
itself in hopeless joy
on the ground in the rain,
or warmed my back
in the sunrise.
I stopped to enjoy
the birdsong, unsure
if that sweetness
was what I looked for,
savoured the headiness
of the hedgerow
and the cool of the
passing river,
happy and unaware.
It did not matter
whether I saw the
sparks, I knew they
were there.
And that was enough
to know that I was
not alone anymore.
