Kenosis

[billy]

You live beneath the swelling

sky in a world without wind.

The firmament weakening

becoming too small

to cope with your immensity—

your singular existence.



Hands brush

against the tether:

this breakfast of blood,

your daily offering.

You rise


both God and worshiper,
alone in the unbearable light.


hard for me to be objective because i'm not a lover of religious poetry.
god-hood, into manhood and the last supper. really well written. i'm not well enough up on Christianity to say more. maybe one nit but i'm not sure, is 'becoming' needed on L, 4?

thanks for the read.