Sunday, October 7, 2018

soundtrack god

I tentatively approach this God
I treat as soundtrack but who
Really is more like heartbeat—
the quiet rhythm that
founds each day
impels each breath
and inspires every
thing.
The beat I rarely bother to listen to unless
I lay my head down on the pillow
and hear it pound in my ear,
unless I feel it through the fingers of another on my wrist.
I love you
addressed to the God enshrined in corpulent gold on the cross.
AndI do not know how to love.
I do not know how to love someone broken and tarnished,
even though 
I, too, am broken
and also a little bit tarnished.

I cry because my heart is hard, but love is harder.

I cry because I wonder if the God on the cross has come to be broken,
so that he might, with us, love broken things as a fellow fragile, patched-up person.

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