The physicality
Of Your reality
Is nothing less than incredible.
It’s incredible that skin could even contain the ineffable
The I AM of the cosmos tied and dyed
In the melanin of a Middle Eastern man.
And just as, that You chose to touch and be touched.

Touch, ha!
It’s a dirty, complicated sense,
Amid this dirty, complicated mess.
It’s full of problems all too present,
Like odors and rashes
And odd shapes and acne,
Like memory and pain
And intimacy.

Frail flesh curtained a Holy of Holies
And touched the unholy hordes, let alone
Lifted them hand in actual hand
Wiped away tears and
Embraced the sinner and
Did this all as a man.

And then,
You tore two curtains,
That what was inside was let out
And into us, a closer touch,
A union, such
That separation proves impossible.

And then,
The Skin of God left.
Swept away, kept for the day,
When embraces will end: never.
But it still feels like forever.

I wish I had been there.
Maybe I would press this Messiah-flesh
And be convinced of the miracle of skin,
Enough that I could look upon any face
And embrace the Him-image within.

We are lepers all.
Made whole by the embrace of the Son.
GOD didn’t just make himself touchable.
He showed me I wasn’t un.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing…”
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 5b

(Liturgical poetry during Lent is inspired by the Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. Photo by Linnea Wheeler.)

Words for the Church: Lent
1. the death of fire
2. tiny tilting towers
4. via del vagare
5. kept
6. enrich the earth

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