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You made water flow from a rock
for her
You parted the Red Sea
more than once
in her life
bloodied by the side of the road
You picked her up
tired and undone
You sent crows bring
ing food
when she couldn’t move

You put flesh on her bones with your Words
You brought her back to life with your breath

She remains still
at the bottom of every worldly well

She knows
  who she is waiting on

The Prodigal Daughter
The girl is back, that’s all that matters. Who cares why she’s back? The old man doesn’t say he hopes she has learned her lesson, or I told you so. He doesn’t say he hopes she is finally ready to settle down, or settle, and find a way to make it up to him. He just says, ‘Bring her something to eat, for God’s sake. Bring her some warm clothes to put on,’ and when the girl finally manages to slip her prepared remarks in edgewise the old man doesn’t even hear them, he’s in such a state. All he can say is, The girl was dead and is alive again. The girl was lost and is found again. At the end of the scene what Jesus, as teller of the parable says is, ‘They began to make merry’. Merry of all things. They celebrated the girl’s return. They turn on the stereo. They break out the best Scotch. They roll back the living room carpet and ring up the neighbors.
-Frederick Buechner (Gender-edited without permission)

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