tear down your church

tear down your steeple

go find your people

and fire your preacher

we the people

of revolt, disdaining

every lie that's gotten

hold, sweet Lord

in the bitter anger

of the thing

somehow Jesus

still gently speaks

"come to me"

inviting

how dare He?

an invitation so open

we can fail to grasp it

again and again and

until again and again

and I see how He's

grasping me...

choose to live

in these

hallowed places

where the

helicopters hover

to see that

they're sacred

where angels upon

angels tread

daily

veiled, vested

time tested

patient

some yelling to be seen

but beyond, so so many unseen

to be invisible

to vanish entirely

magicians tricks

of the humblest

the least of these

homeless, hungry

sit still sweet child

He holds out His hands

with a cup containing

joy

and

suffering

your dearest comfort was bought at a price

and generations may come to count exactly

what it was, but, until then you continue

and please know that it's okay and I'm not mad

but you need to attempt clearer vision

for your own sake

it hurts to take and take and take

even if you've never known your taking

your dearest love was bought at a price

stolen from the grave years and years ago

and daringly presented as an optional gift

and please know that is okay and I'm not mad

but you need to attempt clearer vision

for your own sake

it hurts to take and take and take

even if you've never known your taking

givenness

a new seed

givenness

gifted to all

gifted to self

I weep to understand

how deeply wrong I've been

and who am I? anyway

I miss you, all

I miss you all

bittersweet falling along my cheeks

I'll try to stop making so much sense

so that way, maybe, we can connect

it hurts to take and take and take and take and take

but to receive

holy

to receive freely

confidently

childlike

givenness

how can it be?

how can I be?

Lord, help me.