Poem: “Saturday Silence” by Ann Weems

The shadows shift and fly. 

The whole long day the air trembles, 

 thick with silence, 

 until, 

finally, 

 the footsteps are heard, 

 and the voice of God is upon us. 

The Holy One is not afraid to walk on unholy ground. 

The Holy Work is done, 

 and the world awaits the dawn of Life.