In the Depths of God’s Eye
I woke up in the night
Gasping for light
Wanting on waking to
Walk into God—
To make my home in the depths of Her eye,
To be its apple—A favored fruit,
Neither forbidden nor fallen-
But softly, shrewdly shaken
From the fertile boughs of Her forest
At its prime, and at the designated time
Unshackled and claimed by Shekinah Herself—
Her shimmering, shuddering, soul-shining Self.
The moment Her gaze falls upon me I am lost.
The earth stops spinning on its axis
As my heart stops,
The sun and the moon and the stars stand still.
I am stunned. Utterly smitten,
Consumed with holy desire.
I want only to be seen by that loving eye,
To throw myself into Her gaze with abandon
Denouncing the unholy ground that I stand on.
I wish to fly into Her presence,
To fix myself and be fixed upon in
This queerly infinite moment of eternity—
Both beholding and being held,
Captivated, enchanted, suspended in Her gaze,
Besottedly in love.
So when She plucks me from my branch,
And the world begins to spin again,
I’ll spiral in splendor and splash with delight
Into that sparkling stream of Spirit and light
That babbles and bubbles—and sings—
Dancing its way to the Queen.
Carried along on a current of grace,
On the watery wing of Her will,
Lost in worship and washed in the waves
Of an unexpected cleansing ecstasy—
I am ushered like royalty straight to the throne
Past visions of souls yet unborn and unknown
Straight to the inviolate core of Her enigmatic eye,
Where sacred dreams and secrets dwell
And treasures of the Spirit lie.
A thunderous hush, a flash of lightning,
A moment of unconsciousness . . .
And I come to in the inner sanctum, the holy of holies,
The luxurious place where light lives, loving and lavish.
There will I nestle behind the heavy curtain of Her lids
And make my bed wrapped in immutable silence
In the quiet light behind that lovely shimmering tapestry,
Floating like a perfect pearl
In the soft wet ecstasy of Her heavenly dreams.
And when my light-starved soul is sated,
I shall rise like a woman resurrected
To find it open in the morning
To the glory of the newborn day!
That luscious lid lifted like a grand curtain rising
On the unspeakable splendor of the spectacle of life!
Her masterpiece spilling out like planetary gems
Sprawling across the rich, dark velvet of space,
Diamonds, rubies, sapphires— And pearls,
Forged in the crushing pressure of Her palm,
Her hand, however gently squeezing, then releasing
And in one magnificent sweeping gesture,
Gracefully scattering them across the sky
Like glowing seeds, pregnant with light,
Inseminating the universe with brilliance.
Oh, how I will stand in wonder and drink in the light,
There at the portal, the window of God's soul,
Till I am drunk with the holiness rushing around me,
Soaking in the glory of the mysterious,
Infinite made finite, still breathtaking sky!
There will I behold in the star scape
That frenzied orgy of divine fertility,
Her fiery flowers flirting, flying, floating –
And in one exquisite motion,
Both conceiving and giving birth to the light—
Storms of stars released from their stalls,
Stallions of Apollo tearing across the sky—
Light flowing forth in fire and flood,
Flashes of lightning, electric streaks,
Rainbows drenched with hues so deep,
Crimson sunsets blazing
O’er the fiery surface of the sea,
Flames flickering in her blinding waves,
And half the earth a sculpted mirror
Reflecting Her glory in 3D.
I suck in the sight until I am exhausted and spent,
Both fueled and fatigued by the flurry and fury of joy
Till I collapse—dizzied, dazzled and dazed,
I am a witness.
And lifted to another realm, I see this mystery–
This thunderous riot of color and life—
This intergalactic Mardi Gras,
Perfectly at rest in the eye of Her storm,
Reflected in the placid face of the crystal sea
That spreads in majesty there before Her eternal throne,
The place where Her fiercely beautiful
Countenance glows, radiant, intoxicating—
Where Her lovely eye is both open
And poised in repose,
Both awake and at rest,
With the power to ignite at a glance,
But to mercy disposed.
There will I make my bed safe within the folds
Of Her iridescent iris.
Mother of pearl, Mother of peace,
Mother of worlds, and of glory unleashed!
Oh, be Thou my vision and my truest sight!
Take me into Your heart, Your soul, Your womb!
Let me rise on the wings of the dawn and take flight—
And then settle again as Your flower,
Nestled amid Your favored blooms
Those in whom You most delight.
<Sigh>
In peace shall I lie
In the depths of God's eye,
Bathed in Her light,
And cleansed
In the night.
Elisa Everts is an exuberant late-in-life lesbian who holds a PhD in Sociolinguistics from Georgetown University, where she received a four-year fellowship. She is an emerging poet with poems and creative nonfiction published or forthcoming in 2019 in
misfit magazine, Mused, Anti-Heroin Chic, HerStry, Three Line Poetry, Zany Zygote, The Avalon Literary Review, and
Muddy River Poetry Review, as well as seminal academic articles on family humor style and blind/sighted interaction published by Mouton and Georgetown University Press (2003 and 2004). She has also just finished a children's chapter book tentatively titled “This Little Pig is Family.” Elisa writes, teaches, and dabbles in public speaking near Washington, DC. A smattering of her work and thoughts can be found
here.
