Where is the Holy?

Waiting. by amy

Again the Lord spoke saying, “Ask for a sign of the Lord your God.” 
Isaiah 7:11

 Where is the Holy ?

It’s in the strike of a match that awakens the oil lamp before the light of day
It’s in the first sip of rich coffee, feeling its warmth sink into my body
It’s in the chair that holds my frame, molded to my shape, bearing the imprint of years and 
the one who gave it to me
It’s in the words that leap off the page and cling to my heart

It floats in through the open window
From the soft breeze running its fingers through the chimes  
The cardinal beckoning the dawn of day
The pins and needles of a very soft rain
The unfurling leaves on a plant I thought long dead

It is in this virus
Calling out our vulnerability
Heightening awareness that it does not discriminate
In the new sounds of silence formerly so strange
In the seeking of ways to comfort
In the text message asking, “how are you?” 
In the being together far apart

It’s in the tears held for a friend
In the tired backs of kitchen workers preparing food for distribution
In every squeeze that seals a paper bag with a hopeful prayer for the one it will feed

It’s in the laughter of two joyful youth          
The families, never before seen, walking down the street
It’s gathered at the table, in the hand that reaches for mine…and the memory of ones that no longer do
It’s in the music filling the house from a strumming guitar
And the sounds no longer hidden by the cloak of busyness
 
It floats in the prayers of helplessness for those cut off from love
It’s known in the inexplicable peace in a moment of turmoil
It’s seen on the screen of a face-time visit
It comes now in the dark cloud moving in, hovering, encompassing, and releasing its tears over our suffering.

Where is the Holy? 
It is all around
All the time
Waiting
Waiting to be noticed.

Always. In this together…