And the Word was God
Small word -- god. Like a grunt,
a groan breaking from our throats.
Capitalized, modified by the pious.
Used profanely by sinners.
Forgive us, God, this small begrudged word
wedged into our vocabulary as an afterthought.
Words of worldliness: pleasure, flesh, riches,
savored by our mouths: luxury, lavish; sexuality,
sumptuousness, triumph, lasciviousness . . . .
O pilgrim, take god -- that hard nugget of a word
and nurture it in your core
until it breaks you open,
breaks your world apart,
until a tree from its seed grows,
stretches, brushes leaves and branches
against the farthermost ends
of your thoughts, depths, faith,
experience and imagination.
O child of God, in the beginning was the Word . . .
and the Word was God.