1:44 pm

air flow


When God slipped into Mary (between the breathe in and the breathe out, inhale, exhale, inh—whoops! hi, God!), was she then God? Did she think God thoughts, say God words? When she married Joseph, and they said the wedding words, and drank the wedding wine, did he marry God, too? Months later, in the night, with baby God snorfle sleeping two hours out of three, and Mary new mother comatose snoring on his shoulder, did he feel God still, stretched out all down his chest hip thigh, stealing the covers and tangling her fingers in his belly hair? When she kissed him, when they breathed together, did he feel God slip into him?


God flows, like water down a hillside, like wine into a cup, like blood from a wound. Streambeds curve around and around, making a cradle for the water. Wine pours from the cup into the drinker, and blood carries it to every cell and sweats it out in the early morning. God flows.


From baby God to toddler God, to young God, to grown God, with God in Mary and God in Joseph watching. This is how God walks. This is how God planes a table top. This is how God dresses a lamb. This is how God says good-bye to God, with a kiss and a smile, walking away down the hill.


Love ye one another.

Are you the Messiah?

If I were the Messiah, would you love one another?

If you are the Messiah, yes.

No ifs.


When God inhales, one two three four, clouds poufle and pile one on another, seedpods fillip and jig, smoke curls up and up and up. When God holds, two two three four, dry scrolled leaves float from twig to turf, one by one, alone. When God exhales, three two three four, sails bell fwoom! tumbling new sailors on deck, rain spatters dust into mud, cats slit their eyes and flatten their ears. When God rests, four two three four, nothing happens.


Love ye one another.

We do not know how.


tagged: | 5 Comments


  1. posted April 25, 2005 at 5:59 pm

    Wow… are these your own words Pericat? Blew me away. Like the whole world had suddenly transformed into clouds and storms and rain against the window pane, when in reality it is sunny here as a morning in Glockamora. Going to be hard to raise my eyes to the clouds later when I go for my run without feeling some BIG PERSON is gazing down at me.

  2. posted April 25, 2005 at 10:04 pm

    They are mine. They itched my head. I’m glad you like them!

  3. sennoma
    posted April 30, 2005 at 12:21 pm

    Meant to say when you posted this, I like it a lot.

    They itched my head.

    As good an explanation of the maker’s impulse as any.

  4. posted April 30, 2005 at 6:17 pm

    Yay! We like praise. We can be pathetic about it at times.

  5. sennoma
    posted May 2, 2005 at 7:20 am

    We can be pathetic about it at times.

    Nothing pathetic about it at all. It’s a simple need. I’ve been known to instruct the spousal unit, “See what I did? Praise me!”. Of course, the spontaneous version is best, but I have no compunction in demanding my due when same is not forthcoming.