May 22, 2012


Posted in Ascensiontide at 6:56 am by Teresa Roberts Johnson

In the days of the eleven,
Huddled hope looks toward tomorrow
From the waiting room of heaven
And the sting of new-felt sorrow.
Never getting back what was,
Not yet knowing what will be,
All their work was placed on pause
For a time of wait and see.
Barely able now to breathe,
Longing for the promised One.
Watching, praying fervently
For the Breath of Life to come. . .

Copyright © 2012, 2016 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

I’ll fill in the discussion later, but the idea for this poem was born during the sermon I heard on the Sunday after Ascension.  The ending ellipse looks toward Pentecost.

May 14, 2016: I just read this poem again as part of my meditations for this evening of the last day of Ascensiontide, and I didn’t like one of the lines, so it has been updated. I am not sure why I thought they might be afraid they would miss the promise. But that has now been remedied.

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