By Elaine Knudtson
Why won’t I weep when your child is born knowing his ultimate end?
Life is but a parentheses in the cosmic story, begun when the stars were flung into place.
The Almighty Word and Spirit danced in a kaleidoscope of humor, colour and sound,
Conjuring the skylark, zebra, octopus and rose.
Incomplete as a nursery without a child, we were conceived and born into time,
Free to think and choose and forget.
Loved risked rejection for the brief moments of our gratitude and praise.
Broken by mortality, we yearn for happiness as the sky darkens and the glory dies.
But shards of hope pierce the thunderclouds, removing the final parenthesis.
I will join in the cosmic dance; hope redeemed in glory.
And that is why I will laugh when your child is born.
Contemplative Pilgrims 