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rejoicing
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Scrollworks
"Rejoicing"
Then the circle forms,
hands joined,
feet stamping the dust into rhythm.
The wind moves through the branches—
unseen, yet birthing song,
as those born from above
lift their voices.
It is the Spirit poured out,
like oil running down,
like fire kindled at Pentecost,
turning the threshing floor
into a floor of praise.
The Bridegroom’s name
is carried on the breath,
and the Bride answers,
her joy rising like incense.
The feast becomes flame,
the night itself
garlanded with gladness,
a foretaste of the Supper
where the final cup is raised.
.
I imagined myself as the body
I imagined myself as the body being burned, to heat a festive hearth. Odd.
peace, pot, tequila shot
Jesus loves us, stoned or not
That image of being “the
That image of being “the body burned to heat the hearth” is definitely unsettling, but it actually gets at something real: joy isn’t free.
Harvest joy always costs something like grain has to be threshed, grapes crushed, wood consumed so that bread, wine, and warmth can exist.
The fire in Rejoicing isn’t about destruction but about transformation: what’s given up becomes light, heat, and song for everyone gathered.
It’s a reminder that celebration is born out of offering, and that what feels spent can return as shared gladness.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver