The Darker Signatures Of God
I found my beloved God in the darkest of places, brothels, slaughterhouses, road kill and cemeteries, the sunsets where each tree followed by shadow had its own signature, a long life of thirst and flood, finally swept into eternity. Where? I know that He wept and the mind of the creator, is continually at work. The sculptor of every cell, in webs of synchronicities. The almighty was at work in atheists, sorcerers and the liars. Every holy holy of the slater, the lice and blowfly. As heaven waited patiently by them, to give every criminal and sufferer their freedom. Come to him, to where he can touch your being, or remain lost forever. We are all given the choice. Come to him, where the sun is divine, and the river sacred, and the rock the foundation, the tree revered and the moon astonished, in a celebration of rain. And in my lifetime the sparrows sang gloriously and all that had been destroyed was restored again. God is the unseen dignity of the natural world. He moves amongst us, the saviour of every heart,
And he reaches into the suffering places, so that one morning, one second, one moment away, they are each beyond suffering. The sheep skull, it was a beautiful stone in my hand, the heart left by my beloved, once he reclaimed the lamb. There are greater things than heaven on earth. This is all that he wanted me to know in my labour. And he is with me, he is with me, a witness to this. He came to earth, he was killed, he rose in victory. Our hearts all at once, both saved and shattered. There is still love, in the darker signatures of God. |
