The merest shadow

The merest shadow                                                                                           
                                                                                                        
Before I met You I was a devout believer,
clinging to a hundred stolen truths.
 
Now I find I am slowly losing my religion.
When it’s gone, when my pockets are empty,
 
I’ll float above this world like an angel.
One day there will be nothing left of me,
 
not the vaguest hint of a semblance
of the merest shadow of a dream.
 
I removed my sandals, but my bare feet
stain the surface of Your pure stone floor.
 
This flesh and blood, unholy container
taints the atmosphere of Your immaculate shrine. 
 
O Lord, what is at the heart of me
that You tolerate such intolerable insults
 
and move ever closer, become ever
more intimate and involved?
 
O child of God, if you are made of clay, how will you
          ever be scrubbed clean?
Your Beloved is drawn to the inviolate Source
          of who you really are.