What I See When God Looks at Me
When His pale eye searches me
a mourning light wings a little way
from heart to spirit, proud night
stars unfurled in the giant space
that perfects me, wink out and then
glare with brilliance that makes
translucent bones that throb in His
agony. That beam clarifies the eye
so that once seen blue oceans
turn under the cloudlit sky to
pale ochre, sunset rouged
and back again with jeweled
intensity that dazzles not just
the eye, but every sense is subdued
renewed, made over again so that
things without scent now writhe
with fragrance--silent spaces
are filled with the sounds of His
voice, salt-burned tongue can
taste light, sense-worn skin
wears air as bright as rainbow droplets.
What have You asked of me
for all that You are? Where have
you hidden my heart? Will the
years shyly drop away until
unclothed I stand in the center
of Your glorious eye wearing the Glory
you wreathe me in, the patina of spilled
blood so red it is white?© 2003 Steven Riddle
