Unknowingly….we are born into mission.
Feeble. Inert. Clinging to others in my dormition.
Slumbering unconscious. Unresponsive.
Unmoving sitting in aridity,
thirsting in ignorance,
inept to slack my thirst.
Plunged into a transforming newness I cannot comprehend.
Before a trifling bit; dead specks amongst many.
I awaken, voracious with purpose,
Pressed by imperceptible force
Compelled within walls of lingering dough,
Powerless to resist,
Yet joyfully complete,
By newfound desire,
Insatiable. I feed.
Expanding, breathing, bubbling until exhaustion.
I am rising.
I am alive.
Now I understand Bernanos:
“We have been thrown in the middle of the dough, in the middle of the multitude, as yeast; we shall conquer again, inch by inch, the Universe that sin snatched away from us. O Lord, we shall return it to you as we received it in the morning of the world, with all its order and all its sanctity”
By Chris Clody