Mythic truth
God reached into God’s heart
and gathered perfectness
that shone like a cut crystal.
Tossed it into the cosmos
and Mary on a tiny dot
in a vast universe caught it
and it became a man
cradled it in her womb,
arms, heart.
A perfect man. Perfect sacrifice.
Perfect atonement. For the world
For creation. Then, He returned
the Spirit came, remained.
God, the Three, glowing still.
Supernatural
I look at earth, sea, air and all things therein. The detail, design, intricacy, variety, purpose, how things work together and it is a sign to me of something supernatural… other than. I see in all peoples a bent toward worship, service, and some acknowledgement of God that interprets itself into a religion. The very few who eschew the concept of a creator have rejected one God for another. They become their own god living for their own ends, gratified in their ability to shape their own lives, and answer to no one but their own conscience. It is all a choice. That I choose one over the other doesn’t make me more enlightened – or less so. I speak for myself, not for you. I’ve drawn a line between what I believe and what I can’t believe and those things I will take on shaky faith.
In this universe
immense and mysterious
there’s room for magic.
Beloved?
I often wonder what my relationship to God should look like, not to other people but to God. Does He look at me with eyes of a father? Mother? Lover? Judge? What will the relationship be like when He ends this world and begins another? And I write those words and think it absurd to believe in Eden. Shangri-La. Utopia. But, oh, how I hope it is all true.