It was on the forty-first day that
Noah must have said,
“Hey y’all. The rain stopped,”
It was on the forty-first day that
a couple of Israelites standing
on the edge of the camp
at the foot of Mount Sinai said
“Is that Moses coming down the trail?
And what’s he carrying?”
It was on the forty-first day that
Moses himself met up with the twelve spies
after their reconnoiter into the Promised Land
and said simply “Well, what’d ya find?”
It was on the forty-first day that
Jesus broke his fast by breaking
a little bread of his own,
and pondered the work that lay ahead.
It was on the forty-first day that
the remaining apostles, only eleven now,
stood gazing into the clouds and
muttered to themselves
“Wonder how long he’ll be gone.”
It was on the forty-first day that
I realized as hard as it might be
to come up with something to say
every day, it sure beats what others
have had to do
everyday for
forty days.
But for all of them,
and me,
it is
a threshold
crossed.