You know what the mystics say – don’t look forward
to anything but who can live hopelessly as that?
Who owns a bible where the list of begats
are as dear as the shalls listed in the beatitudes?
Plowing the fields equal to crucifixion and resurrection?
Every motion and emotion, thought and word
holy, essential, singular, irrevocable and worthless.
I mean, priceless, matchless, every paramount moment
and the appreciation of it
the mystics tell us, is loving God.
O child, you must encounter
your Father through the heart.