And God said let there be…
Let it all be
And so God let it go
Let it live
Let it alone
Let it move on
Let it take its place
Let it find itself
God gave it up
Gave it over
Gave it space
Gave it to itself
Though God stayed rooted to the spot
Planted in the desert and the deep
Fingers brushing over the wind-bent tares
Brow sweating, lungs heaving, shoulders trembling
As it went where it listed
Did as it willed
Loved or hated
Hurt or healed
Let it go
Let it fall
Let it be
There is God–a Sisyphus of stillness?
An Atlas of forbearance?
A Prometheus of self-restraint?
No.
God could not direct its hunger
Nor forge its path
Nor carve its fate into tablets of stone
God is not muscle
God is no army
God is no hero
God knows that if God could have God would have
But leave it, clinging to itself?
Hollowed out by ravenous emptiness?
Abandoned it to its self-devouring?
A gift disavowed and discarded?
So God let herself be
And so loved the world
That God let himself go
A presence in every unspeakable moment
For Love is nothing but presence
If, then, God is love–
A terrifying “if” in any given moment on this love-blasted rock–
Then if God is not here God is not anywhere
And here is to be rooted in the soil-less soil
A tree in the desert
An island in the deep
In every terrible moment, deciding anew, again and again —
Let it be
Let it go
Let there be light.