The Infinite Bridge of Everything

"All things with which we deal, preach to us."  - Ralph Waldo Emerson


Awake
Awake my soul, like the morning
Like the sun
Each day
Over the horizon at dawn
Even through the rain
An angel
A light
He sings each day
Speaks each day
So up, out of my bed
Rising from death
Yes, each day
That first moment speaks
Awake, my soul,
And sing like the morning

And every morning
A baptism
Warm water, and soap
The dirt from the day before
The dirt, the earth
Coming up from the ground
From cars, sawdust, and hurt
From a summer night sleep
The sweat
Like self-righteousness
Self-love
Covered in stuff
Yes, each shower speaks
Don't forget the dirt
I need to be cleaned
Baptize my heart, mind, soul, body
All of me

Every morning
Down a dark hall with doors
Past sleeping roommates
A passageway
A little tale
From death to life
To a morning meal
Awake with the Father at the feast
A small parable
Infinitesimal to the reality
But an image to enjoy
And I prepare a meal
Each flavor hits this tongue
Each a type of your Son
He is like cinnamon
Like bacon, eggs, bread
Yes, a profound reason
I must be fed

Into a car
With a friend
Suspended on a highway
Each morning commute
A risk worth the price
Of faith, of life
No certainty
Just probability
Just like everything
The price of each movement
Of motion
Each morning commute
Each 40 minute drive
I risk my life
Just like the hundreds beside

At work I create
Like the King, I make
Cabinets, each day
Each cabinet
Many parts to a whole
Put together by a craftsman
Not as skilled as he
Who has built me
My body
A part of his body
Joining ligaments
Joining boards with fasteners
And each cabinet comes together
Many parts make up one
A pervasive principle
Giving life and love

At the end a sense of release
Fills my blood
Like when you come
A time of rest
The day of Yahweh
To take a breath
Ripped away
Freed from idolatry
From these slave-traders
My wicked gods
Freedom indeed
Release

And at home, a good meal again
Wash it down like living water

All these hints
Preachers
Warnings
Their code not cryptic
Stories
Stories with morals
With subject matter
One mosaic
One Meaning
Pictures
Paintings
But each is aging
Each is moving away
Each a note, all a chord, each day

Read, story in a story in a story
Then sleep
Into a rest again
Like his rest
After the work day

Each of these
Each a lesson -
My day speaks
Proclaims, preaches, screams
"We are not the Son of God
But, 'Behold the lamb.'"
But I am numb
I am blind
I stifle their call
I interrupt their song
It is discord to me
I am content
I am free
And I walk in my sleep