It is grasped as easily as a gust of wind.
It comforts like the snuggle of a colic-y baby.
It is exposed in a lover’s embrace.
And with voices raised, it is buried 6 feet under fury’s wrath.
.
The need of the hour is resurrection.
Not to fly away.
Not some sad morning when this life is over.
Now,
.
incarnated among us is the Favor of God.
Why does favor look like that?
Disfigured, disjointed, parched, hopeful.
.
Secure as flesh pounded nails.
Penetrating as thorns through matted hair.
Smiling like lashes viciously striped.
Lavished like blood saturated soil.
Singing staccato notes in suffocation.
Stripped of pretense like a king on a cross.
.
Disoriented
Soul-Gripped
Elated
Intoxicated
Joyful
Incomprehensible
.
Uncontrollable laughter
.
When the stone was rolled away
And the Favor of God rose.
As the morning sun breaks the dawn
He breaks our hearts.
.
Greetings, you who are highly favored.