Otherwise

Otherwise
opinions about life, work, and spirituality

Jesus Pedals his Bicycle (based upon & inspired by Mary’s Song, Luke 1:46-55)

December 14th, 2008

Every cell of my body
shouts-screams-dances forth with
the wild goodness
of God
abandon myself to
joy,
celebrate Him

Because he’s seen me all along,
smiled at me,
laughed
his great tumbling laughter
spilt overflowing into my life,
my body,
in spite
of sometimes feeling – being – invisible

This moment in time is a
single
drop of
water
after drought of miserable parch

Now on
every drop of water
an
ocean’s tide
creates

People in the future
will remember this single drop of water
started the earth’s quench

And me – tongue stuck out
like a child waits for a snowflake
water droplet
ocean of relief
on my own
parched
tongue

God’s first name is pure and separate
his mercy
sound
of
breath
folding
in and out
of lungs
constant, sure
(easy to ignore)

God flexes divine muscles
the earth ripples

Dictators clutch at their kingdoms
like greedy children with favoured toys
stumble,
their kingdom toy
slips out of grasp
empty-handed
they bray

Rich ones
gather cash towards chest
bear-hug wealth
as though
cash
was a
warm blooded daughter
to hold,
but
cash,
like a rebellious daughter
leaves arms

But the forgotten-invisible-scorned

Aboriginal lady with bulging beer belly
an empty laundry basket
cries from cold,
finds
the basket full
clothes warm with the scent of God

Panhandler squeegee man
an empty pan, dried up squeegee,
finds
a pan full
a pocketful
God’s everflowing
pennies

Teenage boy big ears, hairlip, too loud accented voice
peers sidestep him in hallway, fail to acknowledge
as chatter gossip chatter,
finds
he’s
God’s most anticipated guest
at
God’s
party

Divorcee’s chest aches
needles
of
a thousand bitter, pointed
words, looks
dreams vacation from pain,
finds
herself in God’s tropical hammock
warm breeze of his spirit
divine mai-tai
in hand

but the pastor
rich voice
recites every verse
by memory
theological king
an armory of words
to smite
the unrighteous
does not
find
the cavern of his heart
does not
look
the cavern of his need
just
words
words
words

For God drives his car
My Jesus pedals his bicycle
The Holy Spirit rides the rails
to
the run-down-shack
hearts
of the ignored-invisible-forgotten
and step through
splintered
doorways
into
our
lives

Just like God promised he would:
he saw everything
and he never forgot us.