-- Stephen K. Roney
Everything is a story, starting with this one;
The whole big world is a story told to us by God, like this one;
We ourselves are stories God whispers to us, growing up.
And as we grow up, the story becomes real, and we live in it, and it in us.
And God himself is to us a story that the night stars sing.
First comes the story, and then is the thing made.
Only then is the thing revealed to us;
As though the story were a light playing on a distant shore.
Only then does it live:
Only then does it shine out beyond the darkness of unknowing.
When a new story is told, few listen;
For old stories entertain.
But for those who do listen, it is like
Seeing the world
They are then pulled free of fathers,
Children born again of the story and the dream:
Sons, instead, of the living God.
There was a man called Just-so John,
In ragalongandtagalong clothes.
He wandered about shouting stories
Like this one.
John made stories
John did not understand.
But others loved the stories;
And so they came alive and walked
One day in Bethany, on the River Jordan,
John was telling a story with many doors--
The story of the Christ of Galilee.
And out of one door walked young Josh of God--
Josh, who through
Giving himself completely
Had become whole and single and complete.
And John knew joy to see his first work ever
Acted on the stage;
And was glad the story was no longer his,
But would go on being told, one to another
Long after he was gone.