Saturday, November 1, 2014
An emphatic breach
An emphatic breach
In the pouring rain, the old man said,
I do not get wet and one day,
not as theory or concept
but, in a clear, emphatic breach,
I answered, of course, of course.
Somewhere from a dry, rustling field
where he stood and spoke,
the words reached me
over thirty years but more –
over centuries and continents,
oceans and dynasties –
a crack of the door,
the stones of the temple
and the lush gardens behind the walls;
the crumbling old myths.
The earth shook, dislodged a stone,
the shift of an ancient foundation
upon which everything I am
and seem to be, everything
I know and seem to know, rests.
O child of God, the flowers of the garden
unfold strictly according to God’s schedule.
By the way
By the way
You and I are on a first name basis.
I’ve grown up with this intimacy –
praying as a child each night
for You to take and keep my soul,
allaying with Your name
my fear of death and harm.
Yesterday, I heard part of a speech
by a famous crusading atheist.
He’s made God the center of his life.
No one gets around You.
Everything is a part of Your work.
Every sin, every blasphemy, every ignorance
as well as every revelation and act of compassion
brings us closer to You.
God, by the way, is the only One
with the infinite breadth of knowledge
required to know for certain
whether or not God exists.
O child of God, running from the Everything
is just another route into His arms.
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