Forgot to mention the moon.jpg

(Photo credit: German artist Thorsten Dittrich‘s piece, Forgot to Mention the Moon.)


What if God was as close as

The domed ceiling of an antiquated church—

Walls lines with stained glass

Depictions of before and after

Christ invaded the story

The history of man

A broader narration

An epic

A comedy

A tragedy

A lineage of life and death

And birth and




The grandiose nature of

The Alpha and Omega—

The beginning and the end—

Could not be contained

The stained glass rattles

The musty, dusty wood

That used to be trees stretching

Tall in majestic places

Now bowing to parishioners

Waiting for

Waiting for

The release of weight

When men and women

Stand to their feet

Applaud and proclaim

Praise to the One that lives

Beyond the dome—



Outside the temple erected

His focus directed on each one

Who walks the streets

Umbrellas and tissue

And glasses and backpacks

Catering to their earthly needs

All the while moving inside

An invisible song

Pervasive notes swirling

In the air

The breath of God in the wind

His playfulness in

The wings of fluttering birds

His rejuvenation in colorful promises

Of spring

His love in the eyes of those

Who hold hands

His peace in the frogs croaking

Their midnight serenades.



He whose visage

Hangs in the churches

Broke through the walls to

Walk side by side

No dome

No tomb

No misunderstanding

No doubt

No running



No running



Can hold the God of



To our wood and plaster and


Drawn windows:

It is we whose frames are weak

It is we whose knees

Must bend

Whose heads must bow—

It is our shatters

Our shards that the

Incense picks up and carries

Into the atmosphere

Palpable with life

And into the nostrils of He

Who broke through the dome.


copyright Jill Szoo Wilson