Hello, friends.
This morning, amidst the ongoing anxiety of these election days, this verse struck me:
“We could say more but could never say enough;
let the final word be: ‘He is the all.’”
~ Ecclesiasticus 43:27
It commingled with the aforementioned anxiety, and a poem came out.
It’s called “Reflection on Election (and Ecclesiasticus)”.
Take heart, dear ones.
Reflection on Election (and Ecclesiasticus)
“He is the all”
—yet still we’re falling as we follow
our own descent into folly
bawling, tapping frantically
on tiny windows
calling out the unmitigated gall
beyond the glass
(but the windows are all mirrors,
so we shatter, self-condemned)
“You are the all”
—yet see us grovel: harried, hollow
brawling ourselves into thraldom
crawling, clinging mulishly
to heavy stones
hauling them into a mighty wall
to keep death out
(but the fortress is a prison,
so we perish, self-interred)
“Be all in all”
—oh, hear us whining as we wallow
in rage-blind halls
sprawling, holding listlessly
to slender threads
stalling their slow dance into a shawl
for our blind warmth
(but the threads lead to our neighbor
and the lifeline IS our neighbor
warmth swallows us and neighbor
so we rest, from Self released)