There is no hill to see this from.

You share one body now

with the serpent you forbid,

and with the dove that you allow.

The imitations of his love

he suffers patiently,

until you can be born with him

some hopeless night in Galilee;

until you lose your pride in him,

until your faith objective fails,

until you stretch your arms so wide

you do not need these Roman nails.

Idolators on every side,

they make an object of the Lord.

They hang him on a cross so high

that you must ever move toward.

They bid you cast the world aside

and hurl your prayers at him.

Then the idol-makers dance all night

upon your suffering.

But when you rise from his embrace

I trust you will be strong and free

and tell no tales about his face,

and praise Creation joyously.

—from Stranger Music, 1993

VINTAGE BOOKS
Available wherever books are sold.
www.vintagebooks.com