The house breathes
its quiet sounds
an electric psalm -
wordless, and
insistent, and
my soul travels
along its
singing edge.
I can feel its tug
in the quiet hum
in the quiet dark
in the quiet breath
that is a prayer.
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
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Thursday, June 11, 2015
Monday, June 1, 2015
And I Will Sing
There was no altar.
No sacrifice made,
though I drew near -
nearer than breath
or light,
and I lingered
in a sanctuary
made of holiness
and time.
I tasted sweetness there,
and light that flickered
and danced
and rose higher -
a haloed spark of gold
and blue.
The air was filled
with blessing
and music,
a psalm of thanks
that lifted me
and filled me,
and I sang out my joy.
I was returned,
as ever,
as always,
to this place of
sacred benediction,
and I was whole
in that place
and I sang out my praise.
And now I leave,
step back across
a chasm as wide as
time, or the beat
of my heart, or
infinity squared,
but I leave with a secret,
a promise that lingers
like a kiss -
I will carry these blessings,
this sweetness,
this joy
with me,
ever and always.
Even here,
I will carry them
as a leaf carries dew.
And I will be filled.
And I will be whole.
And I will return,
as ever
as always,
to this place,
this sanctuary of holiness
and time,
and I will sing.
No sacrifice made,
though I drew near -
nearer than breath
or light,
and I lingered
in a sanctuary
made of holiness
and time.
I tasted sweetness there,
and light that flickered
and danced
and rose higher -
a haloed spark of gold
and blue.
The air was filled
with blessing
and music,
a psalm of thanks
that lifted me
and filled me,
and I sang out my joy.
I was returned,
as ever,
as always,
to this place of
sacred benediction,
and I was whole
in that place
and I sang out my praise.
And now I leave,
step back across
a chasm as wide as
time, or the beat
of my heart, or
infinity squared,
but I leave with a secret,
a promise that lingers
like a kiss -
I will carry these blessings,
this sweetness,
this joy
with me,
ever and always.
Even here,
I will carry them
as a leaf carries dew.
And I will be filled.
And I will be whole.
And I will return,
as ever
as always,
to this place,
this sanctuary of holiness
and time,
and I will sing.