A poem of Wisdom on the fullness of time, from teachings of Cynthia Bourgeault

One Small Lamp

The Innocence

The old man kneels
before the child of seven days.
Before separation and belonging,
before the long way home.

The Outward Journey

Ten steps out.
Chronos ticks.

The good, the wicked,
the stars, the darkness —
all under the same truth.

Innocence with no backbone.

The Cost

Truth without Good
is a locked door,
Mercy without justice a cheap grace.

The foolish virgins wept,
because the feast was a wedding.

The Turn

Holy the firm. Holy the backbone.
Holy the vessel that
only waits to hold.

The Joining

Justice and mercy join.
Truth is saturated with Good.
The fullness of time arrives.

The Return

Ten steps back.
Kairos opens.
Fruit ripens and falls.

The Restoration

The lamp is small.
The oil is steadfast.
The bridegroom comes to the steady flame.

Restoration hums beneath every loss.

Tiny life. Vast architecture.
All of it — all of it —
gathered back.

Coda

My soul is calmed and quieted,
like a weaned child
with its mother.

— William Britten

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