a green fly
From there I will give her her vineyards and make the Valley of Achor a door of hope.
Incapable of inauthenticity,
Sunkissed leaves sway in a
Summer breeze as a chorus of
Cardinals trill above the spotted
Fawn nibbling on a rose bush;
While the boy, not more than a
Decade old, lies locked within his
Brain, oblivious to mercy.
Wandering, lost, alone, scared
Damp swamp threatening each
Step shrouded in thick darkness
Surrounded by strange and
Terrible sounds of belching
Doom. Fear-frozen arms locked
Around a cedar trunk, an island in a
Thick stew of hopelessness.
How did one so young come to
This swamp of Achor where the
Innocent bones of Achan’s
Children are bleached, where
Devils lurk and shadows run for fear?
What ancestral sin is visited upon him?
Or, what adult transgression has
Teleported him back into childhood?
Elder with a wounded child within
Cries in the night, still clinging with a
Tiny shred of fading confidence to the
Cedar trunk, its fragrance somehow
Soothes and calls his attention to a
Minute green fly looking at him with
Large yellow eyes filled with a
Kindness not seen in his own species
Tiny flies with transparent wings and
Multicolored thoraxes swirl a vortex
Around him, their collective song
Melting fears into wonder; now
Lifting him softly upwards, floating,
Floating toward, now through, a
Portal of blue-green light into ineffable
Wholeness and shalom
Here, dolphins dance and massive
Cetacea spin near kindhearted mermaids
Who never intended their siren songs to
Lead to anything but genuine awareness of
Those hard truths we distain to face
Because we have not yet learned of our
Belovedness, nor of graces that are
Woven through the cosmic fiber
 New Revised Standard Version, Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.