Caitlin Munday: The boy who waits

The boy who waits
Caitlin Munday

In reflection,
he stood but slight of build
and small of thought.
In infancy,
bearing little likeness,
in appearance
in manner
in man.

Little they knew,
or forgot, or reasoned away.
A long-passed shadow
in present
made sure by an absence
of the boy,
who attended
in faith

on the one,
in whose house he sat.

He listened
with wisdom patterned
and impressed upon him.
What was known, he knew
as one of great ascent –
aged not, yet of,
this place.

Three days found,
and to disbelief
and astonishment
came resonant words of truth,
‘I must be in my Father’s house’
and with Him stay.
So remained he did,
and dwelt.

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