GOD’S WEATHERCOCK

Blow a breach in the fortresses of doubt
See a man from whom vainglory is extinguished
And secret connivance with the devil ended
Stewed in the wretchedness of his imperfections
Weaned from self-hate masked as affections
From whom childishness, routine and hypocrisy is exorcized
The screen of phrases and coating of pretensions purged
No longer for himself but for others; Christ’s
He has seen the sun behind his clouds
The inklings of light beyond his nights
Illuminated by the mystical rays of clouds and nights
He has seen Light
Taken the plunge into God
The man of God: fire-tried, athlete of the spirit
And in whose light we see Light, God’s weathercock.
See a man who has seen
And become a miracle of grace
For whom nothing counts
That does not point to Christ
Through his testimony: am seen and sees
And I have come to believe.

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MYSTICISM OF HONEST DOUBT

O, supreme someone
So alluring, so annoying
My mystical impulse desires to see you
And I know you are there
Wherever is there
In the old world, in the new world
In the bold world, in the restless world
And these worlds cannot hide you
And I too, am there.
My tortured impulse aspire to see you
Yet my clear-sightedness is blind
For your glory extinguishes the lights of my stars
Your silence drowns my screams. My Stalker
And I cannot hide from you.
I renounce my ladders to you.
For they say: “we are not the God you are seeking”
For you are concealed behind
The screen of learned phrases of my prayers
Hidden in my conventions and routine repetitions
However thick, no coating of hypocrisy can hide you
These clouds cannot make me doubt the sun
My delight, my dread, my light, my night
O supreme someone
Of me be it said:
“See a man who has seen”
And yet knows nothing: Believe his testimony.
Inspired, let me see you.

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Poems: Michael Achile Umameh
Image: Anne Worner via Flickr