|Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco|
Confession: I would have wanted to go with him to the mountain. I would have snuck off the boat and followed. I would have wanted to linger in the smell, the feel, the nearness of his body. I would
have wanted to hear his voice lifted in prayer and song, to revel in that particular beauty that had called me to follow in the first place.
God and his cult of personality is a heady thing. I am easily distracted, but I would have noticed Jesus trying to sneak off without everybody else. He would have found me in his suitcase when he got to the top of the hill.
When is the last time someone quoted your own words back to you, O Mighty One?
and come away;
for now the winter is past,
the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth;
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtle-dove
is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away.
O my dove, in the clefts of the rock,
in the covert of the cliff,
let me see your face,
let me hear your voice;
for your voice is sweet,
and your face is lovely.
I would be your beloved.
(Song of Songs 2:10-14)