On Holy Ground

They say to look upon God’s face
Would be unbearable
We would be blinded by light

Then I have died a thousand times over
I have burnt at the stake of existence
All images of myself have melted
And even that cannot be true

And I say ‘God’
But I have to laugh –
The word has lost all meaning

God is only a metaphor
For this fragile gift of a life
For this precious moment, unrepeatable
For this consciousness, unspeakable

For a familiar look on a stranger’s face
For those icy winter branches
For each footstep, falling

There is no unholy ground