I know how to take the hand of God and hold it in my own.

I know how to nestle in the sweetness of Her stillness,
Doze in the lullaby of Her breath,
Steal shy kisses from Her mouth.

Curled in Her lap, I am distilled into light
By Her bleached white heat.
Every ancient story peels away like sunburned skin.
The forever horizon is but a crimson thread
Dangling from the hem of my skirt,
The earth, a marble-blue button atop my sweater,
The Universe a tiny tangle in my hair.

She is my constant but I am not Hers.
For given the chance, I would without hesitation jump
From Her heavenly lap to fall hard into your arms.

I would toss away every prayer and incantation,
Ignore every invitation and revelation
To dissolve in the mystery of your eyes,
Hear the resonance of your voice,
Taste the salt of your sweat,
And soften under the long, sure stroke of your hands.

For God is but a consolation prize.
A sloppy second.
A courtship I commit to, in lieu of you.

I would gladly surrender every hard-won step of my ascension
To stumble over the shoes you leave in the hallway,
To curse the coffee cup you forget to put in the sink,
To cringe at your bad jokes and eye-rolling puns.

Let me be thrown from the temple in shame,
Let the seraphim shake their heads in disgust,
For what good is the Love of the Divine
When every cell of my being burns for you?

Why drink from the waterfall of God’s grace only to walk
This desert, parched and shriveled by the absence of you.

You, who have yet to show your face.
You, who have yet to make an entrance.
You, who feel so far yet as certain as the sun.

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