Here We Go Round . . .

And I said, My strength and my hope is perished from the Lord:
Remembering mine affliction and my misery, the wormwood and the gall.
My soul hath them still in remembrance, and is humbled in me.
This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope.
It is of the Lord‘s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.1

Here we go round the mulb’ry bush, 
so early in the morning
I see you in the mirror there
Stranger, enemy, self.
And I say to you who are dead,
Where is your life? Who are you?
Where are you going?

Here we go round the mulb’ry bush, 
Comb the hair, brush the teeth,
put on your clothes, then let’s go, singing,
singing praise, singing obedience, singing lament,
to see Him, the Holy One of Israel
this day like the day before.

Here we go round the mulb’ry bush, 
Emptied, dead but alive, the days like distorted mirrors
of each other, I see Him like a passing Stranger, Friend,
Lover, coming and going and me pursuing and pursued,
pieces shed, dross consumed, burnt offerings.

Take fire, prickly bush! Take fire, root and branch!
This is holy ground on which I tread
on which I have my being
on Whom I rest,
Whose is the mulb’ry bush.


¹Lamentations 3: 18-22

Galatians 2:20((KJV)
I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.

Yoram Raanan, Moses at the Burning Bush

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