shattered Shalom [Lent, week 1]

In pondering where to abstain and where to persevere for Lent I've sensed a weight toward the persevere side of the equation.  Small disciplines to be cultivated, maintained, embraced, if not enjoyed.


Punctuality
Fresh air and exercise
Fresh food (persevere with those colored foods, abstain the processed!)
Handwritten cards and letters of thanks, reconciliation, prayer
For that matter, prayer.


And writing.


Oh, writing, you have so much to teach me at your school. I am a ten-'o-clock scholar in your classroom.  Dillying and dallying with such nonsense.  Trying to avoid your stern glances.


Here's an attempt to persevere in thought, reflection; paltry words offered into the stream forged by the Living Word of my morning Lenten reading.



Shalom broken,
shattered,
rent in two.
Guarded now by flaming swords,
we stand on the outside looking in.

Starved for shalom, 
grasping,
drooling,
eating stones for bread.
We cower in thistle and branch,
bursting the seams of our animal skins.

Eyes that once saw God
in the cool of the day
now watch cold metal ignite
with the glint of distant Sun.
Right and left,
back and forth, 
side to side.

Shalom barricaded,
dead-bolted,
barred,
obstructed from view.
Hypnotized by swinging metal,
we dream awake of old peace.

Capturing shalom,
in memories,
glimpses,
ancient instincts.
Could we crash the cherubim,
lay siege on contentment?

Rotten fruit falls,
drops,
rolls,
teeters into sight.
Capturing for a moment,
our attention from the angels.

Slurping up shalom,
a dripping,
shepherd's
stew bloats our bellies.
Pretending we are full,
we nap at the eastern gate of Paradise.