Читать книгу Mystery Without Rhyme or Reason - Michael Coffey - Страница 25

Palm Sunday / Passion Sunday

Philippians 2:5–11

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross. (Phil 2:5–8)

My mind so full of debris and hubris from the wasted day,

phone calls unreturned and crumpled scraps of paper,

casual conversations with hidden ego stratifications,

the self I want to project onto a cinema screen large

as a shadow silhouette miming my own celebrated life.

My mind so full like a blue water balloon waiting for

a painful needle prick to burst it open to emptiness

where this small i is no longer my daily migraine throb,

and into my hollow skull a new mind pours like wax

filling every sinus cavity, skull crack and spinal tube.

Your crucified mind so full of hydrangeas and cuttlefish,

the siren of every human voice in full wail and woe,

the birth of stars and the death of orbiting comets,

the faith of the Masai and the death of Western dreams,

the universal background B-flat hum of the holy lover.

Your kenotic mind so full there is no room left for you, and so

freely you let yourself go like a junkie or grey dementia,

until having fallen gorgeously into depravity and death,

the only thing left is for you to be exalted and praised

and your mind to fill mine so in emptiness I am full and free.