I’m putting words together today for an advent / christmas / summer space in the bushfire region’s temporary accommodation villages. Except there are no words.

I don’t know how to speak of faith
anymore
- or its absence -
from this landscape of burnt trees
and souls.

And when i start to speak of peace and joy,
of waiting and hoping,
my words trail off
to nothing
but cliches;

poor substitutes in the absence of truth.

I don’t know if there is language to make sense
of who we are now
and who god is now -

now we know how wrong we were.

so i am here in the silence
waiting for words to come
or the gift of faith
or for god to be born
again.

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