Audience

This skin's stretched across these bones,
Like a canopy in the middle of wilderness,
Sheltering a stirring inside,

Where I dwell, god-like, till the curtain is drawn and folded,
And I am placed in a box to be carried to another place,
Set up and torn down.

Inhabited by generations, borne through deserts,
Wrinkled and creased, torn and repaired.
There is holiness inside, where I invite you to dwell,

To dine upon shewbread and take visitation with me.
I am within. Enter, you who are without,
We two will witness holiness.

You will I hear with intention, breathe into my lungs,
We will bear each other forever forward
Into the promised land.