Nowhere to Run

Whither shall I flee from your presence?

Nowhere to Run
         Whither shall I flee from your presence? 
         - Book of Psalms Ch.139:7

Whether you kneel in front of a cross or
dip your fingers in holy water. Whether 
you sprinkle sand on your stuck out tongue 
or prostrate your tired thoughts on a woven 
rug. Whether you dance naked under a full 
wolf moon with fanged ekstasis, or wail at 
a wall in a succession of bows. 

Whether you wear a belt of skulls. Whether 
you sit fragrant as a lotus with a slightly 
upturned smile. Whether chanting or galloping, 
stomping or contemplating. Whether moaning, 
whether kissing, whether pressing your nose 
to the pine bark, the rose, your palm to a cliff, 
a book, a chest torn open. 

Whether anywhere in this world: the holy house, 
the dance club, the stall. Whether anything; 
a table, a pew, a pen. Whether anyone; 
the ordained, the disinherited, the forgotten. 

Here is God, the daily encounter. Here is 
your self. 

- Moudi Sbeity

Photo by Janosch Diggelmann on Unsplash

There are times when I wish I could escape my self and my conditions. Those times are far less prominent than they once were, but they arrive once in a while to remind me, and I thank them for their teaching: If I truly believe that God is everything, and that I am one part of the everything, then I too contain this God, or am contained by this God. So here I reckon with my faith. Where could I run to where God is not, where I am not? Better to learn how to be with myself here.

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Upcoming Online Events

• Join me and James Crews for The Monthly Pause this Wednesday April 8 at 1pm EST / 11am MST.

• In Praise Of: Horses writing and poetry gathering on Sunday, April 12th at 10:00am MST