Quite rough, the night.
The pain burns as fire.
In the silence of solitude
with but the ice pump's hum and water tricklings,
nothing could I do
but remain still, on my back,
pillows under knees, blankets layered.
I cling to God.
Nothing I could be but
remain so deeply in love with God,
remain Jesus' beloved,
remain in the Holy Spirit's
encircling wall of fire.
The prophet Zechariah speaks
through then to now the reality;
God's being is among us,
His being in us.
God inflames my heart:
But I will be for her an encircling wall of fire, says the LORD,
and I will be the glory in her midst."
The love within me for God is
full-fledged fire within fire.
The Lord encircles me here, now,
still on the bed, on icy pad, covers blanketing
mortal body ensconcing my immortal soul.
He encircles me as a wall of fire burning
the fire of my body's pain, the pain of which
years ago He explained that the very point of
lower spine is the opening by which His Holy Spirit
enters and flows as neon in a circle-eight.
God flows, is infinity, forever
from without to within,
from within to without,
my body and my soul of which,
of whom, He loves so very much.
Then spoke the Lord through Zechariah,
for her an encircling, fiery wall.
Here now the Lord my God,
His protective wall of fire
inflames the ashes,
the mortal pain of love.
God is the fire that burns debilitating,
enabling my mind, heart,
my soul accepting, receiving
flaming fire, God's love in silence,
beyond thought, image, sense.
The Lord assures He will be the glory in my midst.
He and I, in our midst this fire,
God's Being
for me, His fire in me,
encircling wall of fire.
The morning glory of our midst,
the pain yet burns encircling fire,
our silence in our solitude
with but ice pump's hum and water tricklings,
to God I respond,
My Love, my Love, my only Love;
The cross, the cross, and only the cross.
No comments:
Post a Comment