Forgotten costumes

Halleluja.


A Yes to everything.

Resistance to the wind.



The helpless and 

hopeless surrender to what is.


As we are thrown around  

by gales and storms

and caressed  by the pleasing breeze.


The passion for the Divine 

is overtaking us in our own house.


It will empty us of all 

of what we think we are.

And take ownership.


Like the landlord who claims 

his rightful place.

He does not shy away from the things 

we rather hide and bury under the floor boards.


While we attempt to block our ears 

for the skeletons in the cupboard

who are rattling their bones 

and for their yearning calls

to be heard and included,

He invites them all into his gaze.

And by doing so plucks away 

the hidden dresses and costumes

we had forgotten 

are still wearing our names.


He does not leave until all is His.


Cleaned out

Empty

Nothing left

but 

This