Incarnation

(a poetry exercise in which I imagine what Yahweh might tell me of the coming of Jesus)

Let me tell you a story
Of magic.
Of weaving.
Of my Incarnation.

I took strands of Spirit things,
invisible things -
things that cannot be caged
or defined.
Things that cannot be put
 in a dictionary, or 
lexicon, 
where understanding
is finite 
and finished.

I gave this handful of Spirit  
- the sounds and motion
of my heart -
to My Word;
I put them into his keeping.

I put them in his hands,
in his feet,
and in his mouth.
I wove them,
Both Spirit and Word,
into Visible,
Tangible,
Flesh and Bone.

Into time, and history,
Into physical space.
Into a state of small
and fragile
Vulnerability.

And there in the weaving
of me and my Word,
and then you…
came Magic!

The coalescing of blended
colour and light;
music and creation.
Things that cannot be
touched
and yet are.

There sprang my secrets.
Secrets of life and
never ending wonder
- of all my heart
held inside
a 
human being -
spilled out
into creation
through sound and motion.
The tangible and
intangible knit.

An unending Incarnation
of me and you
passed on and lit up
and cherished
- from one heart 
to the next.

A sparkling,
numinous blanket
of light.

Where all my things:
Good, Truth, Beauty;
Life, Faith and Love -
are displayed
in glorious abundance.
Within fragile
temporal
things.

- Yahweh