Today we had a meeting with the core of Oasis Madrid. After a time of worship together, we brainstormed the idea of "oasis" and tried to be open to God's idea of what we should become. It was beautiful to hear each person share. Things overlapped and complemented so well. Several times I had chills.
During the brainstorm time I wrote this poem, from the perspective of a traveler in need of an oasis.
The traveler was weary.
His mouth was dry and full of grit.
Hours past, his steps had become a shuffle
the heavy sand shifting reluctantly before his aching feet.
Alone in a blur of blazing heat,
he longed to give up.
Yet the thought of this desert
swallowing him whole
was more than he could bear.
the dread enough for him to take one more step.
A faint sound came to him
fleeting in the heavy air.
A shadow of sound
surely not real.
It was far too light and airy
to be real in this empty expanse of dry and dust.
It came again, slightly more,
seeming a mockery.
With the last of his hope
he raised his eyes
Agonizingly lifting his hand to shade his eyes
against the glare.
Even as his knees buckled
his eyes blinked madly
to clear this vision which must be false
could not be real.
Louder now the sound came
on wings of a tender breeze
impossibly refreshing on his face.
There, so close on the horizon
was a miracle of green, of life,
almost painful with its richness.
The sound grew louder
and although his mind could scarcely comprehend
his eyes took in the sight
a group of people coming toward him.
They were singing.
"O God, you are my God
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water."
As they reached him
helping hands lifting him to his feet
sharing his burden,
his weary eyes closed
And he rested
under a shade tree
with the water of life on his lips.