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.