You are God’s field, God’s building.
— 1 Corinthians 3.9
Sown or fallow, the field opens to the sun.
A pilgrim wind runs fingers over its skin.
Shadows in the corners, a little.
Some crows visit a while, then move on.
The field looks as if sleeping, but it is dreaming.
Already what is to come
is being made possible.
The building was built by purposeful hands,
the floors and walls, the hooks on the walls,
the tools hanging on the hooks,
purposefully worn and ready.
In the rising dawn a figure stands in the doorway,
silent, then passes into the shadows.
The day is just beginning.
What unnumbered things go on
we cannot know
in the body of God.
Sun and rain,
both early rains
and later rains, and dry spells,
according higher purposes than yours,
yet not diminishing
the fertility of your fields.