I throw shattered glass in the air
then breathe the brokenness with
no ounce of fear.
So broken glass,
like a rain of shining drops of
cut crystal puzzles
are rough-edges of no colour
that Iluminate the spectrum of my mind
but tear my lungs to shreads and
into cracks of breathing. It is beautiful:
How broken things that reflect
can inspire a fire in me.
How broken darts can burn
in love so great
like His Fire that burns in the bush
Of my heart.
Photocredit: Burning Bush by Michael Power
God and man paid together. And this union could not have been broken by a foil.
12 years a carpenter and Jesus wore this veil. Finding grace before God and man was the blood running through his veil…vein.
Becoming familiar with the temple reawakened the mission in a bit. He spoke to elders as an elder; never had they seen wisdom in the purest of its form. Could this have been Moses himself who held the commandments as tablets of stones? No thank you.
His parents misplaced him for 3 days and like a foresight of the future which he was to endure, he went about his father’s business. Joseph was reminded:
This child is not your own.
But Jesus studied, studied man and studied of God too. The Torah was a guide but the HolySpirit was the guide. From a town best kept in “nowhere” he fortified himself for 30 years as a Nazarene prepared to wear the crown of persecution to create a path into the light of salvation.