Mystery Without Rhyme or Reason. Michael Coffey
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Your kenotic mind so full there is no room left for you, and so
freely you let yourself go like a junkie or grey dementia,
until having fallen gorgeously into depravity and death,
the only thing left is for you to be exalted and praised
and your mind to fill mine so in emptiness I am full and free.
Impatience for Imposters
Easter 2 A
John 20:19–31
But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” (John 20:24–25)
You can walk through walls and do spirit acrobatics
you can come back from a day trip to death
you can haunt us in our daydreams and nightmares
but unless you walk wounded with oxblood scabs
unless you return as once rejected and propagandized
unless you hard code the memory of misery in skin
you are to us only a half-assed matinee magic show
a cheating MacGuffin plot device we groan at and walk out
a Disneyfied ending to a once dark and dense fairy tale
but come to us in your incarnate truth of suffering love
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