who decided
God lived far away
some deist
with an agenda—
an unraveled story
long stripped
of compelling character
crisis
and climax
and cozily settled in
dénouement
a theology
without accountability
some deist
picturing a white-bearded man
with a watch fob
looking mildly bemused
at the events
he had set in motion
then stepped away from
carefully
quietly
hoping not to be missed
off to tend some other garden
the agenda faded
the story stuck
some deist
time to close
that account
be careful
of angels of light
the burning glare
will give you sunspots
be wary of long
straight
surefire
predictable roads
for crucial turnoffs are easily missed
in the halfsleep of autopilot
be cautious
about accepting every Structure
our fathers founded
listen to your Daddy
test every thing
question all
prune
glean
rinse
repeat
overturn when necessary
who calls someone Daddy
that has never been seen
he who has seen the boy
has seen his Daddy
who calls someone Daddy
that has never hidden
in the strength of his arms
his right arm routed
entire armies
in full sight of his children
who calls someone Daddy
that has never experienced
the closeness of his breath
his breath filled us
like holy wind
who calls someone Daddy
that lives far away
in another universe
his boy said
the kingdom is near
turn your heads down, children
this is how we begin to pray
in reverence to the sky
but with our eyes closed
for somewhere
WHERE
beyond the blue
is a love so powerful
it had to keep its distance?
this is how we began
but where we end
no wonder I felt silly
looking up
look around instead
the kingdom is near
whose persistent work
to close the doors
to narrow the gate
to increase the burden
to complicate the yoke
the joke’s a bad one
and on all of us
it seems
a theology of exclusion
is not good news
good news
is not about getting in
but unpacking
good news
is not about going away
but seeing a better place
here
now
and living to
make it so
so it does not even feel like work
Heaven
suddenly
a place to dream of
without fear of being wrong
suddenly
Daddy’s boy’s words
make some sense
a truth rings anew
and the tears fall
the kingdom is near
I weep in the presence of Truth
others may laugh
or pause
or change the subject
but as for me
welling up is a clue
that I’m getting warmer
follow the tears
the kingdom is near
the road before me
gets blurry
must be getting close
this is my Father’s world
this is the demilitarized zone
this is the Holy City
this is the land He purchased
at a great—and terrible—price
the promised land
a new heaven
and a new earth
where all slaves
find emancipation
the pool of Siloam
where all will wash
and find healing
the garden
where we will walk
with Daddy
in the cool of the morning
this is His kingdom
this is home
so near.
September 05
