After Ascension. Luke / Acts

After he left us
We ran, knees bruised with blessing,
dust and joy spilling out of us.
We ran to the temple,
The only place we knew to go.
Where lamps were lit and the prayers already ascending,
Chasing him up.
Our home.
Our place of consolation, of rising, falling,
Of all our ageless story.
We joined old men, and prophets who’d followed Anna,
And we sang.
In our strange home of smoke and stone.
Because we loved him.
After he left us
We ran, dragging our stilled feet,
Waiting as we went, eyes still pulled upwards,
We ran to our upper room,
The only place we knew to go.
Where bread was baking and women spinning our story into thread,
Wrapping it up.
Our home.
Our place of sanctuary, of whispered hope,
Of our remembered story.
We sat and ate, joining our mother and his,
And we broke.
In our strange home of hearth and wood.
Because we loved him.

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