Thursday, December 17, 2009

Indwelling Incarnation by James Metelak (3)

The words spilled out of the bloom in a rush
Filling a void and forming dust
Consonants congeal to planets
And vowels spill over into mountains
In the beginning was the Word
Resting on God's silent lip
In an infinite mind pregnant
The Word was within and was and with
Weaving threads that formed the atoms
That formed the man

We are God-spit and earth
We are the wound of serpent's whispers
The man walked and he chose
He spoke; Eve gave birth
To a new earth, an old ache,
A murderous son and eternal pain
We forgot the words
Between our fingers
Between the dirt
Sin sparked genocides and wars
We forgot our names
The fabric in our veins
We cut with knives
We cursed our lives
And died
Hate and poison inside
We died

The letters, no, the sound
Seeded a teenage virgin womb
And began to pulse and divide
The word put on flesh
And indwelt a mom
What cells are these?
What flesh that walks
With perfect love and wood-carved hands?
The kingdom came
The baby king
Magi and angels and shepherds all agreed:
The God in skin
The God in diapers
And the world did not recognize him

The Logos was wrapped in swaddling clothes
My heartbeat is his clap
The fabric of the universe, God-spit woven into a placenta growing to
God with piss and tears, blood and sweat
Immanuel, the Great I am
With wood-cut back
And nail-ripped hands
Ankles pierced the Word made death
The Word became death
The veil tore
The temple cracked
Total eclipse
The sky turned black

And in the nothing
The grave
Clocks turned back
The deep magic, the deepest science
Was unmade and reformed and reborn
Resurrected Lord
And death died to us
Bringing life

And the Word became breath
And in his death
Spit on our eyes
And came inside
The Kingdom comes to us
The Godman King breathes in us
Indwelling our shoes and our love
And we are life, we are alive
And his breath inflates our lungs

What child is this?
What breath?

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