Listening to Sufjan Stevens’ “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”

Listening to Sufjan Stevens’

“No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”

What we long for

has turned from us,

revealing its long backside

and its even longer shadow.

And still,

even here,

a voice as pristine

as distilled water

flows. It murmurs

in this desolate place,

which we find so familiar

and so terrible

The voice causes

that which we long for

to pause,

to glance back for a moment

into the agonizing wake

it leaves. From

that raised-up place,

from that agony and blood

above us, there

is movement and recognition.

There is a moment of

distraction from what

must be accomplished

and fulfilled.

In this awful place, in

this long and exhausting

realm, it is the voice

that sustains.

It ripples and

cuts through the murk.

It is then—

the curtain torn

the hands wrung out,

the knees bruised to

the color of monarch-wings—

the song ends,

and we can stand up

from the dark, bloody earth

in a groping manner

and shiver.

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