Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror
Don’t look at me
don’t
return my gaze
There is too much truth
in your reflection
I would rather
forget
But if you are willing:
sway without me
in a dance
of grace
Show me the
gestures of compassion
Then I may sneak a peek at you
across the mirror
to imagine a likeness
an aliveness
possible to embody
on this side of the glass.

on James 1:23-25

God in STL

You are a very particular kind of God:
gathering in the freedom of abandoned houses
that police come to prowl with guns drawn,
cursing in protest through midnight streets
while teargas clouds the neighborhood air.

You are a very particular kind of God:
filling with a great and holy wind
the voices of those who can’t breathe,
reaching for your waistband and pockets
lest the authorities bind you and claim you.

You are a very particular kind of God:
casting a side eye at militarized fear
as it threatens to destroy you,
holding steadfast on a highway
for the sake of life and love.

There is truly no God like you
in heaven above or on earth beneath:
for the others pose in stained glass
and genuflect on the lips of liturgy,
they pout from the crucifix heights
and wait politely for the world’s salvation.

You are a very particular kind of God:
blamed as the culprit in your own death,
required to forgive every humiliation,
attacked for your audacity of mind, body & spirit.
In heaven above and on earth beneath,
there is truly no God like you.

on 1 Kings 8:23

Psalm 31:15a

This breath.

This conversation.

This rushed
to-do list.

These seconds
dashing, dragging.

This long
waiting season.

This focus.

This distraction.
That one too.

This exhaustion.

This
very
word.

And this —
you.

This
fleeting night
with its fitful rest.

This hour.

This shake of laughter.

And this muffled sob.

Every moment.

My times are in your hand.

O God, keep my times in your hand.