you have encircled me

you have encircled me_edited-1

These word images grew to life from the heart-seed of Psalm 139:5a, the lovely HCSB version

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“the eternal appetite of infancy”

I fastened the joints of the rainbow’s sleek and arching backbone
I planted secretly the lark’s song-knowing
I run the length of sparkling seas and walk the ocean’s bed
I feed the leaves through veins of life
I lit the fire in the dragon’s throat
I chase time, and capture and keep it
I observe all that breathes from My throne of light
I trace the earth with My fingers and watch the winds follow
I split the mountain with My gaze to see its stony bones
I fall and dive and race the cascading stream
I bring buckets swinging from My shoulders laden with rains to the desert
I sink My hands into crying valley soil and raise its plane
I cleanse your streets and skies with impulsive thunderstorms
I shine sun on the evil and the good
I paint with light and cloud every evening and morning, from the first day
I hope for My children, for I am Love
I climb with you up My Holy Mountain, where none will kill or destroy

I am had for the seeking, found for the looking
I call and carry you to Myself
I am the LORD your God,

and I am building us a forever House where you will share My unbound joy.

“The sun rises every morning… His routine might be due, not to lifelessness, but to a rush of life. The thing I mean can be seen, for instance, in children, when they find some game or joke that they specially enjoy. A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be the automatic necessity that makes all the daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we…”

G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Pg. 51

“…So we sit perhaps in a starry chamber of silence,
while the laughter of the heavens is too loud for us to hear.”
Pg. 152

submerged

water (1 of 1)

a step into the waters, the crowd is stilled–the wind had changed inexplicably

the cells of Spirit-sparked life quickly begin to assume a shape, tiny and unseen

“stop! I am not worthy–You come too close”

a human boy breathes
skin, muscles, bone, laughing-sad eyes
he speaks and loves and sees

taken by choice under the Jordan, breath held in his lungs,
unbursting
his heart momentarily speeds its pulsing of blood–

miracles temptation questions pain wisdom suffering healing sorrow “Come to Me…”

s u b m e r g e d

the incarnation his baptism
his living, the death of us
his submersion into humanity, our complete and full reversal

though we protest to let You enter
and let you turn our faces to be Beloved.