it is

as if we can't spot God

anywhere

ev'rywhere we look

God hides

so we write God off the map

out of sight

where'er we search for presence or sound

for some indicator that blinks

when'er we think God's around

so shout a word of thanks

or shout

"Where are You, o Mighty-hand"

tho it's not in seeing that one sees

but hearing

list'ning through the off-beat marching

among the blanks of ones despair

or the naked-pines singing

when the wind blows

or lays still

when anguish is the highest form of searching

we might chuck looking

staring into the Dark-Night

cause the moon will not shine

when the Sun stands still 

still with the Wind

waiting for the End 

*Reflections of Jean Sulivan:

  -The reality of evil is absurd only because we begin by imagining God in terms of human power.

  -The Father communicates by abandon and silence, right up to Calvary itself.

  -Miracles have nothing in common with theater.

  -They occur when a certain tension of faith and love is produced in the hearts of men and women.  A crack, a flash, breaks open the nothingness of appearances. 

 -Miracles speak of the central fire