Wildernesses [for Lent/Advent]

A message envelopes me, 

Permeating my whole person: 

The disembodied preaching, 

The tones of a tameless, timeless wind, 

Surge deep into my searching soul, 

As if, "A voice of one crying: 

'In the wilderness clear out the way of Yahweh; 

Make straight in the desert-plain 

A highway for our God.'" (Isaiah 40:3)* 

Ridge follows ridge into the horizon, 

Their shadows and mountain hues 

Growing hazy, at last to melt at the world's watery edge.

Ages old, yet seeming no older than I: 

Wind-whipped, scarred and, yet, still enduring. 

Forlorn, wild, untouchable seems this place... 

The lonely sadness of a lingering coyote howl 

Harmonizes the wind's haunting melody, 

Eerie to all but those who know and love such music, 

Whose very life and sustenance are this desert: 

Ground squirrels and kangaroo rats, 

Cacti and sagebrush, 

Rattlers, gnarly reptiles and other desert-dwellers 

Make peace with this wilderness, 

Surviving and thriving. 

In such a place settled Abraham, 

Blessed by Yahweh, prospering as a tent-dweller. 

Through such barrenness 

Moses led the multitudes of Israel. 

Elijah first retreated to the desert 

To find relief from wickedness. 

Christ came to the wastelands 

To fast His forty days; 

Here to be tempted, here to triumph; 

Here to prepare His soul 

For the rugged ministry ahead. 

And, so, a still, small voice (I Kings 19:12-13) 

Whispers softly inside me: 

" 'In the wilderness clear out the way of Yahweh; 

Make straight in the desert-plain 

A highway for our God.'"* 

---C. Marie Byars, November 1986 Ft. Irwin, CA

*original re-translations from the Hebrew Bible; somewhat more literal and, hopefully, more in line with poetic work