A barren and howling waste was the cradle in which we slept.
But it was in the weeds
that we sought the Lord, there where the roots followed
obscure patterns, crooked patterns that followed our dreams.
His favor was to last only as long as the sun brushed the dunes before us.
Did you see the wolves?
Songs from the escape, glorified and bare.
Where we trod across the plain, wind
wiped its hands on us, tossed down with some mighty gesture, laughed.
Tucked in gowns, palms, and the stuttering path:
his mercies were strands of hair, and as elusive.
We are walking toward the sun.
The daughters are upon us.
We salted their purification and let them join their husbands.
Where did Egypt go?
Unyielding soil of the Arabian:
It burns the eye. The eye burns the soul.
The mountain shrouding itself in fog
gave us the blinding we needed
to see our own infractions: Peace
is a wheel. Let it roll on. It has no home.
Marisa Lin began attending The River Church Community in late 2018. She is a recent graduate of Stanford University, where she was involved during all four years in InterVarsity's campus ministry. In her free time, she enjoys exploring the contours of language through poetry.