It’s the dry season. It’s hot, humid, and hazy. Plants wilting. Birds lethargic. Humans move in slow motion. Creation ‘badly’ thirsts.
It’s also Covid time. There’s dryness and emptiness – no physical touch, no gathering, no liming. We are thirsting, thirsting for human touch, face to face conversation, group fraternity.
Like a dear that thirsts for running stream, we thirst for physical touch, physical conversation, and physical gather – without distance, without mask, without a virtual space.
It’s Covid time. It’s Covid thirst.
Then comes a sudden and unexpecting, but brief down pour of rain. Creation comes alive. Birds abandon shade, comes into the open and take a bath. Leaves transform from their bowing posture to erect posture looking up to the heavens. Water collects in drains and dogs come out to drink.
The post Covid rain is coming. Patient waiting and discipline waiting gives way to quenching our thirst – thirst for physical touch, physical conversation, physical gathering.
It’s not here yet.
We wait, wait, wait, discipline and patient waiting under the shade waiting for the dry season of Covid to pass.
Will it pass? Will the rain come? When will it come? When will the Incarnate be revealed in a physical touch, physical conversation, physical gathering?
Like a woman yearning the birth of a daughter, our soul yearns to the Divine Messiah to be revealed in a physical touch, physical conversation, physical gathering. . .