Saturday, September 7, 2013

Over the jasper walls

Over the jasper walls

If this was paradise, I would want out --
over the jasper walls one night 

or ducking back through the pearly gates.
If pleasure reigned, every heart's desire

quelled and answered, suffering eased,
death overcome, I would still want to know --

to know -- not the truth but, Who.  Who.
I believe, anyway.  I feel as much.

If everyone on earth were angels of mercy --
wore wings of kindness, generosity,

I would still be missing a stone,
an aching hole in the wholeness.  O Lord,

must my wanderings take me back 
all the way, all the way, beyond, beyond?

Beyond, beyond, is that home?  That unimaginable,
perfect silence and stillness before the journey began;

before the imaginary bits of Yourself were gathered
and scattered and pressed into service?

Reaching down into myself, I yield, probe and open --
What is the essence of this longing and Who,

o Lord, o Lord -- no names or descriptions --
Who is my Beloved?  Who is my Beloved?

O child of God, let the tide of mystery within you
rise and swell then, inexorably, sweep you away.

                            

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