My brother, Uzzah

My brother, Uzzah
reach out your hand so that I may touch it,
take hold of it,
joining our lives together.
My brother, we shall touch god.
We shall look with wonder and awe
and love,
and touch everything we see––
like small children we will grab a hold
and thrust the world into our mouths––
we will taste and see that the lord is good,
and we will not surely die!

we will stretch out our hands
and strike down the pillars propping up the heavens,
unzip the sky
and bring such otherness crashing to the ground,
collapsing into our beautiful this,
beautiful here,
beautiful everyone.
the god which we cannot touch shall not be our god
for we have touched things far too wonderful for god not to be within them,
and we did not surely die.

here,
underneath our feet
is the dust and dirt which is the very slow-beating pulse of god,
both holy and unclean,
the ground underneath our being
and the ground of our being!
for in it
we live and move and have our
being.
oh, the world is an ark
that each of us carry,
stumbling along and dropping it.
My brother, we will reach out our hands
and touch the presence of god
and keep the world steady
and we will not surely die!

 

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