Advent Day 11 - creation made co-heir, questioning

"silhouette of bird on roof during night," by Giv Meraj on Unsplash.

Psalm 72:18-19 (NRSV)
Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
    who alone does wondrous things.
Blessed be his glorious name forever;
    may his glory fill the whole earth.
Amen and Amen.

creation made co-heir, questioning

how do I speak of glory
in this foreign land? 
the clouds hang low, depressive
the ground is dry and cursed. 
deep in my bones, my child-self knows
to return to joy again and again,
a prehistoric soul, a fish-ancestor, almost humbly merfolk
before all the creative feelings came,
knew what it is to be creation
simply be creation, without question,
and be glorious.

how do I anticipate glory when it sounds like it only comes in one color? 
my beautiful charcoal night sky doesn't count 
my chaotic ocean in corals and greens 
will disappear to a world of new 
blankness, the clouds in all its textures 
will be swept away to blind blank blue.

how do I expect love when an eternal tradition's feast is all they'll see
when our skins, not sins, are what's washed white, blind, blank  
when I tense and rage in color, but all they'll hold is peace 
how do I move forward in love 
when the heavenly choirs are all we'll be
when desires are made callings so interchangeably 
but some desires are blasphemy
how do I know what You've approved for glory 
we are all Your creation wanting some light 

we are all Your creation

we are all Yours

we are all—

how do I wait for what's wondrous
when my sacred night is synonymous with danger, horror
when my sacred seas are synonymous with chaos, enemies
when I look into the greens of animal beauty 
but also the bared teeth of animosity
how do I hold both realms happening simultaneously? 
the creative glory, the hunger that makes it manifest
that brings me closer to You, that I feel You give me breath 
the darkness that makes it shine glorious, and yet
the darkness that should never have been, the proud death?

Reader Response

Perhaps God's glory is true and infinite, and perhaps there is more than one narrative of glory, more than one vision of new creation, coexisting as much as body coexists with spirit.  

Where do you find glory within? Where do you find glory without? 

When we sing praises that there will be no more crying in heaven, what do we really mean?