I got a surprise package in the mail this afternoon, Songs From Under The River by Anis Mojgani.
If you've been keeping up with my blog from the beginning, you'd know that I love Anis Mojgani. I first got introduced to him last summer after hearing Shake The Dust. I own The Feather Room and now I have another book to add to my collection! I'm so happy. Thank you, Ryan. You're the most best.
This poem is another one of my favorites and the first poem in the book. When I read it, I can hear Anis' voice from this video. How he articulates each and every word
Come into this. Come closer.
You are quite the beauty. If no one has ever told you this before know that right now. You are quite the beauty. There is joy in how your mouth dances with your teeth. Your smile is simply a sign of how sacred your life truly is. So step into it. Come closer. Know that whatever God prays to, He asked it to help Him make something of worth. He woke from His dreams, scraped the soil from the spaces stuck somewhere inside Himself, he made you, he made you and he was happy. You make the world happy.
Come into this.
Know that something softer than us but just as holy planted the pieces of Himself into our feet that we might one day dance our way back to Him. Know that you are almost home. Come just a little bit closer.
There are birds beating their wings beneath your breastplate gentle sparrows that ache to sing -- come, aching hearts! Come soldiers of joy, doormen of truth!
Know that my heart was too big for my body so I let it go. And most days, this world has thinned me to the point where I am just another cloud forgetting another flock of swans. But believe me when I tell you my soul has managed to squeeze itself into such narrow spaces. Place your hand beneath your head when you sleep tonight and perhaps you will find it there making beauty as we sleep, as we dream, as we turn over. When we turn over in the ground may the ghosts that we have asked answers of do that turning, kneading us into crumbs of light and into this thing-love-thing called life. Come into it.
Come, you wooden museums,
I see teacups upside down, glowing across your grins, your hearts are like my hands. Some days all they do is tremble.
I am like you. I am like you. I too at times am filled with so much fear. But like a hallway, must find the strength to walk through it. Walk through this with me. Through this church of blood, bone and muscle that is our lives.
There is a doorknob glowing like chance before you. Grab it pull and turn, swing. Step through. Back straight. Chin up. Eyes open. Hearts loud.
Walk through this with me.
Walk through this with me.