The voice it was in the storm
in the fire in whirlwind
spoke to me and told me
and it was in my veins
it left a scar inside my arm
the many needles
the bone the blood
knit me together in my mother’s womb
and said it is good
but things went wrong I complained
and he opened a river inside me
and he said it is good and
my tongue grew silent in the shadow
and inside my brain exploded with light
holes illuminating the disintegration of nerves
that tell me left from right that tell me when
I’m spinning I’m spinning God catch me I’m slipping
the swift tilting the backhand of God left me broken
let me fall
behold do not be afraid of the light
An aching hip a broken ankle my lips screwed tight
the many places the angels have touched
and left me limping
God spoke and my angel wears a tunic
sewed up with my scars
Wholly, Holy, Holey
