by Chandra T. Mountain

For Hannah and Courtney and beloved sisters gone too soon.

And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us…full of grace and truth. – John 1:14

Searching for a palpable, 
in-the-actual-flesh 
visitation from You,
a sit-down at my table
tea for two.
Except You set it for three.
Me. And two.
Searching, too, for the deep-down flesh experience of You.
 
Holy. Beloved, dearly.
 
We our own trinity.
Huddled in tears and prayer,
not at Your feet but at my desk—
You laid a bit of the grief to rest.
For the loss of sisters,
of self and innocence and dreams
and the fairytale image of You.
There was church in the honesty that Your will can be cruel—
 
To shatter our souls
and thrust us so violently
into the hellish struggle
between life. and living
when some part of us is already dead:
Devoid of spirit. Life. Being.
 
Was it necessary to break our hearts to make us unbroken?  
Lock us day after day in the unspoken truth of our pain?
Making words.
Unheard.
Connecting syllable and sound to lifeless rhythm.
Rehearsing our shame
that we were not enough,
did not do enough to keep them.
Here.
 
We hold our breath, 
lest we stop breathing 
We are consumed.
 
But the unleashing— 
unexpected 
brutal
raw
unpracticed—
gave You flesh
created You in the flesh.
 
The unburdening
gave life to Your word.
And You were created at my desk
and stuck around for tea.

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Chandra Tyler Mountain is an English professor at a small liberal arts university. When she is not with her guys, in class or her sunflower-brightened office, she is roaming, camera in hand, shooting beauty and inspiration, or sitting quietly in the shade of a tree drawing flowers. She writes poetry, inspiration, and creative non-fiction. She maintains a blog about snail mail, photography, and the beautiful facts of life at https://iamchandralynn.com

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