The One and Me

a poem

How glorious is the One
     who transcends all I read. 
How wonderful is the One
     through Whom the world breathes. 
How majestic is the One 
     the only One who my soul needs 

But it's not as if my soul doesn't
     need you: my wife, my child, 
     my enemy, my friend

For you are part of the One who 
     transcends all I read. 
You are the One through whom
     the One breaths. 

Yet You are You, and the One is the One. 
And I am in You, and You are in Me. 
And We are One. And we are The One. 

So when I contemplate the One in
     a blade of grass or a drop of 
     water, do I think to contemplate
     the One in the hillside or the
     heron or the bass or the valley?
And do I think to take a long, 
     loving look at the One
     in the plane and the One in
     the bodies in the wreckage?
And do I dare--how could I not--
     consider that the One is in
     the man in black as well as the
     One handcuffed in his backseat
     wearing workboots with soil
     in the grooves and ridges?

Until we see the glory, wonder, and
     majesty of the One in all, 
     the self-inflicted wounds will 
     continue to bleed, and water and 
     blood will pour from our side. 

But when we submit to this
     baptism: Behold! A new heavens 
     and a new earth!