I BELIEVE that all is all and then,
That light is not enough,
that love is, almost. That the world is round today and wasn’t once.
That fish had scales, then legs, then words, then wars. That beauty is a deeply shadowed thing. That I am everywhere, and at all times at once, and that I’m every possibility. That I am nothing.
That the gilded edges of the book once harbored
poison, while the word remained.
That some stars died,
before we knew that they were there.
That the notes you make are stinging sweet.
That quarks and bosons, softly sung
by beings in the quantum, are.
That for every word once written,
yet another lurks beneath.
That what we get is not the same
as that which we deserve...sometimes.
That you are, whether or not.
YOU redeeming flood, wash over me; until I am submerged and I am drowned. Until I am consumed. I am in the belly of a fish. I am in the belly of a man. I am in the green stalk of the ground. In these grazing pastures. Beside the shepherd’s tent. In the belly of a woman whose left hand beneath her head now rests. Until some part of me is soon reborn in these low hills. In this village that we gather in. In this place where flocks and herds, grazing, are not harried. Over and again may I rise up. Until the hungry poor are satisfied and I am scattered by the wind.
I BELIEVE that love is just the end of self,
That there’s always one more threshold,
That resting in you feels like breath, because it is.
That no matter where I am, I am,
that you are also there.
That death is just as good a myth
as I think I’ve ever heard,
That I will never have the final word.
That surrender is a love’s truest companion,
That the void is never empty, but is filled
with particles of sweet unending grace.
That we always re-create those things
we think we’ve tossed away.
That there is always one more thing
that we’ve forgotten to consider.
That the light always abides with us
in the dark - somewhere.
That to change one’s mind is all it takes,
the heart will follow swiftly.
That this life is enough. It is enough!
That love and justice will outlive us all,
That we are wrong more often than we’re not.
That an apology is a such small thing to be owed.
That the arc of justice bends toward now,
and that truth doesn’t belong only to us.
That you are a doorframe in the dark.
That you are a book, a page, a word.
That you are a bell jar.
That you are a spoken thing.
That you are an endless gasp.
That you are a round face, laughing.
That you are all this foolishness and more.
That you have found me.
In this dark.
In this light.