Emmaus

We cry
Our feet are lead
and dead
We can barely lift one then the other
to plod along
the road to Emmaus
choking not on dust
but pain and grief
and disbelief
The Master gone.
And one comes alongside us saying
Why are you grieving?
We can't believe
he doesn't know, three days ago
they took the Master
drug Him to that hill to kill
and now
even His body gone.
But the man asks "Ought not Christ
to have suffered these things?
And to enter into His glory?"
The words reverberate on the road like writing on the air
And our hearts burn within us
as he opens the scriptures to us,
back to Moses and the prophets
and up to the day
our Master had to die
and why.
His words were alive
we did not want him to go
not then not ever
and so he stayed.
And when he broke bread with us
and blessed it
our eyes opened
and we saw it was Him.
Him all along.
Him alive.

Luke 24:26
Luke 24:32

by Linda Johnson

This Wild Man John

We saw it
The day the heavens opened
Tired, we were so tired
of dead ritual and
religion like skeleton bones
that we walked a day in the hot sun
over rough roads and danger
to get to the Jordan
where this John was,
this baptist,
this wild man
who brought people up out of the water
ready to live for God
This John who said
Look for the One who is coming:
I baptize you in water
but He will baptize you
in the Spirit of God,
and with fire.
And then we all saw
the man Jesus
come up out of the water
under an exploding sky.
The heavens opening,
the Spirit of God descending
like a dove
and a Voice like talking thunder
calling Jesus son, beloved son,
and one Who pleased Him so.
Our hearts opened too,
like the heavens
torn wide, ready
for that Spirit
that baptism
that fire
John promised.
The wild man
John
standing in the water
hearing God talk
under a torn up sky.
The day the heavens opened.

by
Linda Johnson

He Wept

I lingered.
I talked.
I waited.
And then we went to Judaea.
By then
you were weeping.
And Lazarus was in the tomb.
I knew
(I always knew)
the very moment
I would call him
back to you.
But because
you didn't know
I wept.

by
Linda Johnson