The Heart of Day
by Rebecca Weber
Oh, for the day when time’s cold rule is lifted—
that day that is no day, and neither night;
when what are now dark boxes of existence
break forth in endless choruses of light;
when holy dreams shall blossom forth as rivers—
unchecked by fibered dams of time and space.
Oh, for the day when good shall see no ending:
ability and passion interlaced
to form a vibrant tapestry of glory—
fulfilled in light through grace all undeserved;
where now holds yesterday, today, tomorrow;
and every squared-off corner shows up curved.
O Father, haste the day when time is loosened,
and all things are compelled to ring Your throne—
where kneeling, I shall know eternity:
the heart of day that is as yet unknown.
Rebecca Weber lives in Nova Scotia and her delights include the color yellow, bandages, and books, people and paradoxes, words and the One called Wonderful.
Photography by Kenneth Godoy
I like the concreteness of “dark boxes,” the truth of “undeserved,” the new heart’s holy longing eloquently expressed. …