God Enters My House

with a great guitar leant over His shoulder

while I work my tiny keyboard or sleep

with my tiny pillows, and He begins to

play with deep handfuls and warm waves:

a cosmic clawhammer cutting the

common gathered up in ruins in His arms,

so my dry-flushed spirit can sing the

simple gospel of Jesus, not withered by

any body or vessel until it’s upsprung like

a mystic arbor and tunes to an undying,

but autumnal, sound.