Lent 40 (Holy Saturday)

Let us be together
in the silence
of memories

. . .

I remember
the pleasure of his company
around a table with friends
bread crust crumbling
in our fingers

. . .

There was the day
I was sinking, overwhelmed
by the storm, but there he was —
as if catching me was
no big deal

. . .

We walked miles with him,
remember? God, how we walked!
The villages and the hills and the temples
and of course all those people all the time —
and Peter’s constant complaining, ha!

. . .

The last time I saw him
he was walking away from us
and he didn’t look back. He knew
what we couldn’t know. How I wish
that he had looked back.

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