Divine incursion, whisking away the holy subterfuge that makes me look so good,
making quick work of my earthbound building blocks, so pretty yet shallow—
tearing down to build again.
Divine intrusion, making my thoughts Yours, when I thought I had a much better idea,
making wisdom wise beyond my capacity. If only I could
release these cherished idols, these glimmering obstructions—some of my best work, but
it is flaccid diversion that stills Your intervening presence.
Divine inversion, making what is upside down upside right, a new way of being,
making new what is tattered,
making pure what is sour.
Holy Invader, I surrender.