Finding Our Way in the Dark
‘Keep your hand on the plow and hold on “ --African-American spiritual
How did they do it?
Those grandmothers and fathers who brought us here?
Finding their way in the dark, never looking back,
feeling their way to the path of planting,
they held on to the plow in the moonlight and trusted that the furrow was straight.
They listened to God’s silence,
certain that what they didn’t see or hear would nevertheless ensure their seeds would fall on good soil,
and, with it all, trusting in the fruit to come.
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And now here we are.
All we can really do is keep hold of the plow,
finding our way in the dark,
listening to whispers in the clouds that move across the moon,
turning left or right by faith, or changing direction by instinct,
going around boulders in the way lighted by that bright circle
that is only a reflection of what some say is God’s shadow,
because we are incapable of looking directly into the sun.
Surely we breathe in the Divine
with the dust that is raised by our digging.
Surely the sun will meet the seeds at dawn and work its magic again.
Here we are, not reaping our harvest, but expecting it,
finding our way in the dark.
All we can really do and somehow must do, is to keep hold of the plow, plant our seeds,
and trust enough to be guided by Love’s intentions,
and the promise
that dawn will come.
© Linda Beatrice Brown