We all are children
fumbling in the dark
feeling for a handle
searching for a word
that might describe
the indescribable.
We have no tongue
in the languages of men
to circumscribe this shape
this size, this form,
and so we use
our clumsy hands
to reach for rainbows
and press them to our hearts.
I am so weary of creedal systems,
even more of doctrine,
for spirit will not slide
underneath a microscope,
or flow inside a formula
no matter how elegantly precise.
But I am all ears to Poetry and Prophecy,
the wild song that rides
upon the Wind and on the Light,
an ode to Love and Wonder
sung to the One and only Word
that ever truly took on shape.
by Kristin Jack, from his book Poetry and Prophecy
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