God in the heart

The holidays are over, I must make a decision which will greatly affect the course of my life, and I am still preparing a suitable presentation to describe the heart-stopping wonder of encountering puffins. So here is a theo-poem from my past--if it offends, I suppose you will know better than to read any others that I post! My spirituality is topsy-turvy at best, but as honest as I can manage--and I trust that this is sufficient for Grace.

A very quick note for those of you who don't already know this--I call God He or She as the mood suits, or a variety of other names--you may find this startling, but I think that's the point, and for the record, I do mean the Christian God, the Triune One. Onwards.

It's called:

God in the Heart
'The heart that breaks open stays open.'
Clarissa Pinkola Estés

And God climbs in, nimble-foot,
lithe, and perches – frog
in a well, canary in a mine,
purring like a pigeon – see
the beating of my God-filled
heart beneath my curving
ribs, see God the grain of
sand tumbling in the oyster
soul, O that She were shiny
and smooth rather than an
arrow in my chest, a sword
in my side. To be unaware
and at peace, but this thorny
God pricks like a bramble,
burrows like a mole, knells
like a bell, delves deep –
has no one told Her there are
no diamonds here? It is
untoward: gods should be
clean, not coated in coal
dust; gods should not
weep, gods should be stern, quick to
punish, quick to judge. God
should fix the
world rather
than mucking
about with
the likes of me,
but I cannot
dislodge Her,
cannot pry Her
fingers free,
I have a God-
infested heart,
God is the
hive of bees in the
belly of Samson’s
lion, wild and sad
and strange, making
me hum.