And this is holiness.
Here,
The turning round
Of all our expectations,
The undoing
Of every single potentate and power
By which we build our small
securities.
Only the humble,
The broken ones,
The ones who have no faith
In the works of their own hands
Can enter in
To the cataclysmic kingdom.
Mercy comes
To those who know they need it.
Come then, Lord,
Shatter the old, fond idols once
again.
Let me see them as illusions,
Let me know
That they do not collaborate with
you.
Come to the place of tears,
Come, fill the empty,
Let your miracle flow forth for
those
Who know their need of you.
Help us become small enough
To enter the tiny door of the
looking-glass kingdom
The door that leads
To the garden of your glory.
Take away our falsehoods
For Holy is your Name.
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