I Am Said I (Huruma)

Jesus told them still another parable: “The Kingdom of heaven is like this. A woman takes some yeast and mixes it with a bushel of flour until the whole batch of dough rises.”  (Matthew 13:33) It is the space Between two griefs Centre point of loss Nerves tensed to Snapping Like overstretched Guitar strings The Gospel churns A memory of them Baking bread These women of the home Parables of the Kingdom Of Christ And I am yeast The raising ingredient Tossed into the mix And mess of flour And sour milk Moulded by expert Godly Hands Pounded Pulled apart Pressed And baked Bread in Hands Of blessing Given out Distributed

I want to fire Myself down Like the discarded Thing that I have Become With the irrelevant Hidden powerless Of this world In this singular Moment To be reclaimed By the Vision Of my First Love The purest bare Necessity A small Contemplative Opening Into memory Something bypassed Missed along the way Fleeting ruminations Unlearned prayers Tasted An altar boy On the bus home Fervent Legionary Catena on his lips Mary in his heart She that comes forth As the morning rising Fair as the moon Terrible as an army Such strange Minglings I prostrate myself Full stretched emptiness Arc into Interior On the cathedral floor Of my intense and infinite Yearning The all consuming truth Of who I am In the sight of God

Joy trickles Like a stream On moistened Rock In aridity A hummed tune Rising Emotional Memory stirred Slow dancing I have found My way here In the cold Breeze Of a strange Summer At noontime  To hear sacred Whisperings The gladness Of Your Presence And blessed Friendship Two lakes Two lives A sacred valley

The German With exacting Standards Said I was the best Dishwasher and Cleaner of sinks Ever High honour From one Who would never Praise the day Until evening The morning sun Might not last She would say Everything Is tested For durability Everyone Must prove Themselves Worthy The shining sink I leave behind In sunlight I find a hint Of inner Purification

The prayer is  Heartfelt Head bowed Despondent Depressed Despairing We know That we have Lost Everything And are come to Nothing And we plough The same spot Of soil Over and over Til it is wasted And we Are worn down Quagmired A state of Unbelonging We might as well Unyoke the oxen Burn the plough And take the desert Road Into another Promised Land Making our home There On fallowed earth Remembering That we are Pilgrims of no Lasting abode In this world

1. Eli Eyes of soul Gone dim Way not Seen Ears of heart Gone deaf Word not Heard Too old and young Too far gone The wrong way To turn back Now 2. Esau We trade Our birthright Salvation sold for Satisfaction Eternal for transient Fulfillment Cursing ourselves Into unblessedness For all time We have no idea Of the deception Into which we have bought 3. Samuel Shiloh’s silent Sanctuary Shelters The sleeping Boy Tabula rasa Unhabited No stuck rut To stifle Dreams Prophecy finds Its way With him Double edged Speak Lord Listening Alert the dawn Draw back The curtains Light breaks Through +++ Eli - 1 Samuel 2:12 - 3:2 Esau - Genesis 25:29-34 Samuel - 1 Samuel 3

i We have shed our skin The old and fearsome Hardness that was on us Not knowing what We will become The outer layer That will grow to cover The bleeding rawness In which we now Exist Salted by stranger And those of our own Household alike Despoiled Despised ii The heart is torn Apart from west to east Eden to eternity I am listening to God In Genesis and now God and man Parent and the child Who will not go But must be sent For good reasons The love that dares To say no iii I hold the fledgling Lamb against my breast Feel its trembling Heart beating Upon my palm Caressing its frailty And every pain Desire and stifled hope The love that dared not Show its face or Speak its name That shouts aloud its need To be fulfilled Demands its right All other voices Silenced iv There is One only Who can hold all these And heal And cause us all To come to that tender Repentance Which Mercy only Can achieve