This Broken Toy

Mystical poem written 4-10-25. Hymn To The Divine 16.

1.
Don’t you know,
That all the gods are tragic,
That what it means to be divine,
Is to participate in eternity?

Even were the Moon and Sun,
To falter, and Their light to fail,
The Powers and delightful Selves,
Behind those lights would persist

Ever-present and eternal,
Inexhaustible by expression,
Always remembering, always giving,
Their constant and infinite becoming

We stand always in Their blessed circle,
Healed, revealed, and made real,
Through aspiration and participation,
In the warm gaze of the Divine

2.
But I remain bound,
Chained down and spoken for,
By the limited and temporal,
The painful real of the Real

How can I feel so alone,
When I can see Your light,
And hear the wondrous Word,
Being sung throughout the world?

How can I hunger for You,
When I feel You without and within,
And see You everywhere,
That I can bring myself to look?

I hurt,
I am incomplete and lonely,
Stranded here,
Wondering at my pain

3.
Alas, I am only me,
Except when I am You,
But even then I am but the shadow,
That You cast as You move

A ripple on the surface of the deep,
The quiddity of Your gaze,
That makes me real only,
When I can catch Your eye

Caught between mean and extreme,
Just a number and a person,
Who can never quite tell the difference,
Between the two

Just a broken toy that loves You,
Though I sometimes fear,
That I have been tossed aside,
And replaced