tabernacle

The small brass box sits in the desert sun.

The eagle comes in to look for food.

It is empty.

She kneels down on the earth and waits.

She is thirsty.

Overhead the eagle flies low, watching.

The screeching sounds are heard throughout the desert.

In the distance the smoke is seen from the fire, burning with desire.

There is no wind. The rains start. Flowers bloom.

All of creation waits for Her to say the words.


by Marian Kelley
of Hereford, AZ
August 19, 2001