I am a broken altar
rebuilt atop a high mountain
what are you, oh great mountain?
an ancient altar
rebuilt during a famine
restored to burn
I am drenched with water
and drenched again
drenched a third time
many waters powerless against
the weakness that births grace
the broken altar rebuilt
not by power
not by might
but by His Spirit
I am a daughter
come near
what do you see?
I ask for fire
and it falls
eager and hungry
to be known
making clean the foundation
the Lord, the Lord is God
I am pregnant
the natural in response to the spiritual
a prophet in travail
face between my knees
growing in authority
chosen
growing wide and weighty
chosen again
made like a signet ring
There is a raincloud
rising from the sea
oil falling from the Anointed
fuel for those who burn
the end of famine
grace, grace
a capstone
a plumb line
winds through the olive trees
There is the sound of heavy rain.
