Wednesday, June 5, 2013


This simple, exquisite piercing
which rends me - 
which comes from no place
other than myself
and is a mystery to me.

This blade of love 
which cuts me,
which sheathes itself 
in my chest,
leaving me gaping
and vulnerable.

I try to place my hands 
on the hilt of the blade,
even as I reach
not knowing whether I seek
to pull this piercing out of me
or to drive it fully home.

All I know 
is this piercing is my joy.
Through this piercing
my being is opened 
to a broad expanse of possibility:
a feelingplace I did not know existed
before soul's blood was drawn.

All I know 
is that I am fulfilled 
through the truth of this communion:
that here,
with god,
all the fleeting falseness
of myself is laid low
and I am exposed - 
exposed and opened
to receive the light
that is left in it's place.

It is this piercing
which at times pulls me away 
from the shared space of community,
away from the simplicity 
and complexity of daily life,
away from any sense of identity
other than that of a divine splinter
lodged somewhere deep 
within the flesh of my own heart.

And it is this piercing
which pushes me,
demanding that I return everyday
to that space of commercials
and crowded sidewalks,
that space of hurried meals
eaten in between items on an agenda:
that space of handshakes and hugs,
that space where you and I meet
and where we seek to come together
to create something.

That space wherein 
I find it so very hard 
to remember this piercing,
to be conscious of it's integrity.

That space wherein 
my resistance itself
becomes the only thing 
keeping me from love.

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