This is a poem I wrote during our debrief in Nelspruit, South Africa. It was written during the second worship session (31 October). I was wrestling with ideas of love, which occurs quite often when pondering God’s identity and my identity as His creation and His beloved, and whether or not I love too fiercely or too unrelentingly. This is what came of those thoughts. (Boss is both a term of endearment and a term of reverential respect that I picked up from a set of poems by Michael Manning called Bucolics.)
Love is both fierce and gentle. Love is the perfect juxtaposition.
Boss we always talk about love like we
know it as if we understand
how it ticks and what makes it move
and where it’s going to carry us
To the next table or time slot
where someone will satisfy us
Boss aren’t we here to
satisfy you in the breath we breathe
things that probably smell bad
instead of the fragrance Boss
of all you’ve breathed inside of
us to breathe out breathe
in breathe out gently over your
creations to keep air from
getting stale Boss in and out
in tidal waves and hurricanes
and spring thunderstorms
Boss aren’t you love? Does that
make you irrational and uncontainable
and worth fighting for Boss you
said I was worth fighting for
so what is love?
