Creation's whole, a single one who's I,
Who's you.  I'm talking to myself in thee,
O my most kosmic self who lives a lie
Called me and everyone who isn't me.
Space is my mind capacious with the in
finitely finite infinitum ad
The Word is God and every body's sin
Is mine that ever was and has been had.
God is salvation.  Christ is God who's love
With you and in your broken raging heart.
Broken, the light within you shines, the dove
Flies free, and everything is new.  Restart.

I am Creation and so are you.  Let
Go and behold the end that wasn't yet.

nowadays I read
myself like it's in 𝕷𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓
in M---rse, and spɹɐʍʞɔɐq

Writing a haiku's          
          Japaneasy, slurping soup    
     Japaneasier.

by the light of the m👀n
in the blue @fterⁿ°°ⁿ
həy ****** ******
a cat p!ays a fiddle,
a li'l d●g nam'd Skiffle
laffs like fracking a nut house,
& a cøw jnmps
👁ver a runcible §poon)

Soaring little swallow, what do you see?
Enroute to Bethlehem from Nazareth,
love’s silhouette, encasing holy breath—
a pair of weary travelers, but three.
Awestruck little swallow, what see you now?
Angelic chorus singing Peace is here!
as shepherds shake in sacred, wondrous fear,
then rush to find a babe and to Him bow.
Resting little swallow, can you see more?
Great star shines brightly ‘gainst the darkened sky
while newborn Light breaks through an infant‘s cry—
God‘s brilliance swaddled, cradled, helpless, poor.
This babe you see in livestock manger lain
created you and does your life sustain.