Although we contain God’s Image,
We cannot possess eternity.
Shown only in humility,
Given more so in gratitude.
To the prayerful seeking,
Venturing into inner stillness,
She waits listening,
Generously breastfeeding,
Filling hungry souls,
In sufficiency,
Her Wisdom,
Spilling
down
our cheeks,
Until satisfied.
Nurtured in bliss
Nuzzelled within Her.
She is my most intimate,
My Omnicient Identity,
My untrammeled beatification,
All-Knowing witness,
Ever-Searching every thought,
All my worthy desires and inspirations.
She is my Unblemished Ego,
My soul and guardian.
Whispering encouragement
Always drawing me closer,
seeking the sacred in another.
Forcing my knowing to behold in others,
What can only be contained; never possessed.
She is the wild purity of my God,
An impervious compass,
pointing Heavenward,
Waiting patiently for my fiat.
When I find the frayed threads of my ends,
It is then I hear Her invitation,
Beckoning me home,
Into the safe harbor of warm Hope.
My Impenetrable high tower,
of ultimate rescue,
And it is here,
In Her Virgin Womb,
Where I can be,
Truly be…
Still and
Know
God.
Chris Clody
12/7/20