The Garment of Praise
Drawing down the habitation of angels onto this flesh and blood earth is the way we do it.
It’s befitting as, clothed in music, we draw sustenance in an activity that has substance.
A dance; its movements traced are mapping out the kingdom of God.
Making stories about others wrap around to make stories of us.

We’re not content to adore from afar. Our mouths thirst for the taste of the primal force.
It’s there for the taking but only by the ones who won’t be put off by the tinsel of imitation. Spurning liturgies of metaphor, messages of shadows and copies.

We want to touch Him.
We want to breathe the true air.
We want what can’t be had by half measure.