the sky is darkened
confined, time-bound
by a veil of cloud
only a single star
can pierce through.
so sometimes i feel
constricted, limited
by the selective world
of my own mind and
long for something
someone to shatter
my smoke-glass ceiling
so i can see the stars.
i am very small, 100
trillion cells or so,
hungering for more
than i can ever hold.
and You came.
unconventionally
holding to and
bending the words
You spoke to spark
the light of life
You the Word
uncontainable by
human conventions
of definition
became the stroke
of a letter
in a conjunction
connecting phrases
in a stanza of a song
millenia long.
You the Word
implanted into
a poem of Your
own writing.
yet even then
in becoming small
finite for a moment
You were not less
than You are
infinitesimally quiet
a single cell
in the dark sea
of a woman’s womb
carried by Your creation
You were still
the song that held
Your words
together.
and You, unwombed,
singer of galaxies,
knelt in the dust
with hands that
encompass creation
like an acorn fallen
from a tree,
and raised my
veil.
Beautiful.