‘Show me an image
of the invisible God.’*
Install a consecrated box
Set round with wings and things
Half hidden in a fog
A darkened, curtained scene.
Fashion me an icon
Polished, worn, kissed clean;
Paint a gold-leaf halo
Godey and pristine.
Make it soar on cathedral walls
Out of reach, some distant dream;
Or in a fire, a storm, a cloud
Presumed; hardly seen.
Oh, ‘Show me an image
of the invisible God.’
Is incarnation too casual
Too dirty, too un-God;
A virgin birth too scandalous
God fathering a son too odd?
Hear the screams, sop the blood,
Cut the cord, wipe the crud;
Wrap him warm, let him suck,
Kiss his lips, rest him rough.
Welcome humble God-child.
Welcome to our neighbourhood.
Graced with eyes of faith
Here I see your divinity.
* this line from ME Lauzon ‘On the Birthday of Life’
“as the colors are given away take all that you need all i ask is that you leave all the blues for me” Mike Hauser
Dull distant drum of life on the move
Softened by heavy clouds–
Like soft, felt blankets of snow
muffling the life out of us.
Currawongs chortle in a minor key
And minas respond with a try-hard cheer,
“chirp, chirp, chirp”
Is stillness worship too?
When the trees aren’t clapping their hands
Are they bowing in silent wonder?
Are whites and neutrals the silent worship
of light and color?
All the light and hues in the spectrum…
Opposites joining hands in slow-mo dance;
Mute but radiant with awe.
‘From every tribe and tongue’ Namibia has always been tribal.
The structures left by apartheid still exist…
It was, it is and will be
as long as nothing is done to integrate tribes.’