“Who do you say that I am?”
You are my teacher, trickster, shaman, guide,
companion in all that I do.
You love God and the world so deeply
I can't escape your warmth, your light.
You let me see your wisdom at work,
walking me through the scripture of this world,
and I follow and I am changed.
You walk with with me, move in me,
breathe through me, love through me.
You are the gardener who tends this world's beauty
and shows me its secrets,
the local who knows this city,
takes me places, gets me into things—
wonders and trouble alike.
I will go into terrible, beautiful places
deep in the suffering of this world
because I want to be near you.
You question my deepest assurances,
magician, and make me look again.
You appear in the flesh in the jailed and abused,
beckoning, forgiving, still loving.
You are holiness being familiar,
the Holy Trinity with an arm around me.
You are my lover, passionate with God's flame,
loving every part of me, every part,
radiant with God, my faithful servant:
I can't get you up off your knees for me,
weeping for me, dying for me, rising with me,
holding my head in your hands.
You wrestle with me, wrenching from me my self
and leaving me nothing but yours.
You pray in me, pray for the world,
pray for me, pray for God,
and I am in wonder.
You draw me into your infinite silence.
When I am hungry for the bread of God
you make my mouth water,
and I love you.