Sometimes the wind that strips everything
is the strong breathing of a yes.
The river of life wears away your little island
and bears you somewhere fertile.
Receive the gift only departing can bestow,
the holy not in what is anointed
but in what is next,
the beginning beyond the silence beyond the end.
In thickest darkness is a door felt, not seen.
Beside you in confidence
God is uncompleting the journey for you.
Lay your hand on the dark door. A voice
says, “Come, join my becoming.”
There was a definite cracking sound
It came from that place inside
Like the milky way
Or the center of the earth
More possibly hell
– At least half way to one or all of those places
Like winter ice in the springtime thaw
The sound was unmistakeable
Now i feel it moving outward from that secret place
Like an inchworm
Made of glass
Or razor blades
I wonder if half of me will
Melt down onto the floor
Like a bizarre murder in an action movie
Where the camera stays still
The guy who just got slashed through
From the sword of justice
for suspended moments
The smile still on his lips
One piece slides to the floor
While the other stays upright
To the delight
of the eager
All of whom I know