Tsunami Hits

by Ger Murphy

A tsunami has hit, there is a hole at the centre of the universe,
It all feels pointless.
I hear that God is dead,
I can’t find my car,
and my wife has left me,
even my mobile phone will not turn on.
Comfort is a thing of the past.
A past when family and future felt full of meaning slides towards oblivion.
The weight of what may be coming feels crushing on my chest.
I surrender to the crush, winded and falling towards the centre of the black hole of void, beyond time,
beyond hope, beyond meaning.

If this is it...
If my grandchildren do not get to live their dreams, and the trees I planted wither and die,
this is silent and bleak as an endless hell unfolding.
I sit awhile here on the singed earth of a desert day, still, alone and waiting.....
For my mobile phone to power on, to hear the small stories of this day,
The elderflower blooms whitely outside my window.
Patching myself together piece by piece,
the warming drink,
remembering the man coming to fix the leak in the bathroom,
tea with my wife and daughter, maybe a swim,
the mundane, the small and the soothing.
Can I, should I forget the burning elephant in the room?
Unknowing seems impossible, denial seems tempting.
But to look out the window to the steel grey morning sky,
flourishing green in defiance,
birds calling,
blessing me with the ordinary sacrament of this one day unfolding,
looking through this broken heart, this mind freed from all certainty, fresh, alive,
inviting, my loves calling me to be here, awake and grateful for the suchness of it all,
seems the only right thing to do. 

IAHIP 2021 - INSIDE OUT 95 - Autumn 2021