Hymn to Immanuel

He came, as light in the dark.

The cords of vines,

The splinters of cobwebs,

A decorative brick-a-brack that framed the sunset.

I was blessed before I knew it.

I began the trail with many questions

And as I ran, the muddle in my chest grew thicker

–a  cornstarch of ambiguity—and I grew afraid.

But, soothed by the amber and orange of the sinking sun, I ran on.

The falling night was a balm.

The manzanitas whispered sweet nothings,

And the lizards hummed dry-grass music through their tails.

They were all in it together.

Deer stirred and the ground cover—a bed of oak leaves—bounded up to meet their hooves dancing in the yellow light.

Even the dust reverted to expelling lullabies older than Adam,

So ancient and new was this eve.

I wonder what primal magic healed me that night?

Silently I was woven into the tapestry of the falling sun,

And whispered into place by the dark chirping of crickets in hidden places.

Immanuel: the glow of fading light.

Immanuel: a bee’s wings.

Immanuel: a raven circling in a purple sky.

Immanuel, you have brought me home, to where it all began:

The original sky,

The original earth,

The original intestinal light.

“Welcome to the bowels of the beginning,” you said, as you tucked me into the night.

Immanuel, you have known me always.


One thought on “Hymn to Immanuel

  1. This feels like it’s flowing out of a deep place. You’ve helped it along nicely, taming the wildness enough to let us see it without changing it – the structure is simple, powerful and full of images that collect into a oneness that overcomes fear with beauty and sees something bigger than a self. The lines about Adam, eve and primal magic are special; the repetition of Immanuel and original reinforce the primitive nature of the piece and end in the arresting “bowels of the beginning.” Well done! Thank-you.

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