I will expose you, God, where You hide
behind the great gray universe,
twinkling stars like marbles
through the airless air.
I will trace the whorl of your
great thumbprint,
the dust of it, across the darkened sky.
I will call Your bluff,
and blow away the vapor screen
that secrets You beyond our streaming eyes.
I will call You, God, call You loudly forth—
summon You, who laid the angels, wingless,
far from Heaven’s heights,
and barred the entry to Your kindly Kingdom.
I will dare You—challenge You, elliptic God,
to come and shout Your wordless name.
Come!
Cry out Your name, and ours . . . and mine—as fervidly as ecstasy of lightning, as certainly as thunder on our ears.
Dear Reader,
Can I be direct with you?
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