The deep, deep hammer
He’s teaching me another language –
the One Who came to awaken.
I run to spread the news and quickly learn
no one else speaks it; even I don’t know
what I’m talking about – the resemblance
to sheer gibberish dispelled only
by the deep, deep hammer,
anvil and stirrup of my boxed ears,
by the throttled pipes of my throat,
by my heart under His heel, at His mercy, and faith.
A very thin stitching holds my world together.
Ambiguous and elusive – reaching for a word suddenly
unpronounceable; just as well, for it has lost all sense,
come to a thousand shades of meaning –
one thing this moment, another the next.
I’m being taught a language where I speak
only by listening, dismantling as we go
the definition of every word I have ever uttered.
O child of God, faithfully say your prayers
and with all your heart listen to the silent Christ.