The audience of earth is moving
Every whirling atom
is craning its neck
Matter as a whole is turning
slightly, slowly, deliberately
Curling itself outward
to further catch the rays of His glory.
In all their lives,
they have never seen something like this.
Struck but once
with holiness,
they have been forever after whirling:
thousands of years
in vertigo
after the murmur of His voice

Quarks are swirling hurricanes
of nervous excitement,
agitated and joyous for the Wedding,
to hear His voice again (like the Great Before).
Space, time, and light
all in earnest
bend and undulate to His breaths and movements.

Look at the Created.
All the earth praises Him,
while we flip our minds
and spin ourselves in circles
and wonder why we do not feel
the delicate turns and curves
of His mighty, terrifying Will.

The atoms can smell God.
The light can smell God.
(They remember,
they taste the memory of Him)

From the lint
to the elephants
to the dry grey hollow
in the corner of the ceiling,
every sparkling, delicate
speck of creation
is groaning for His return.

I want my life to be that groaning;
of Nature and Loving
twisted together
and soon to be reckoned with


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