Why, in the end, was it a magic trick
that was needed to get my attention?
I can be so jam-headed.
At first You didn’t make sense.
A gentle healing in the same way
You are on snowfall mornings
when crystals, each one an individual
creation, brush by in winter wind
to ice my skin. Your immutable
presence underscored in deep silence
beneath the storm holding me dear.
Instead, I settled behind closed doors,
warm and safe.
I was not yet wild enough to hear
Your fathomless love song.
It’s not my sins that need to be forgiven
in an act of terror or a rising again.
It is knowing in the sweet cry of a babe
on his birth-day that we are the Same.
I know You walked on feet sore
at day’s end, slept fitful with worry,
struggled to be understood,
yearned for a gentle touch.
You were just like me.
This knowing heals my shards,
smoothes my edges, tames my fears,
what some may call forgiving my sins.
You and I are One this holy season,
this new start we begin again,
remember Grace in what You did
to realize I can do it also.
It wasn’t a magic trick in the end
that Oned us, it is the birth into this life
as we walk together.
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