Exultation is the Going

Exultation is the going
Of an inland soul to sea,
Past the houses—past the headlands—
Into deep Eternity—

Bred as we, among the mountains
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?

—Emily Dickinson

Who will soar the sea with me, go beyond ancient boundary-- all looming shadow--launch into the deep eternity, see what only angels see?

Who will listen to Spirit-beckon:  Come lose the self in wonder, plumb heights and depths for treasure, unfurl frail wings untethered, set sail the soul in Mystery?

Who will run abandoned into the waves unseen, throw off heavy bonds like string to the Wind, casting silver nets on the other side of impossibility?  Who will go with me?

Who will drink full liberty, a remnant--scattered seeds, divinely intoxicated, breaking free to see fair, glorious King at the head?

Who will live the life exulting--be holy as He is holy, open ancient gates of glory, ride crashing swells adoring?

Who will bring the increase--nets breaking full of Father's blessing, sons and daughters laughing love, countless as the grains of sand?

Who will become one with the One whose love possesses me, majestically?

For I must go.  I must know as I am known.  No more captivity!  I live to behold chaotic beauty, be soothed with ancient symphony,  metamorphose sons of Glory--I too, am mystery.

Into Depths I plunge, fearing death, fully trusting only me.  Grabbing hold the Messenger, One who knows me well, we wrestle.  I fight, relentless for a blessing, must lose myself...this false identity.  I speak my name...

Death comes, not as I imagined, but in the glorious give and take of life.  Weak, I lay to rest in the swells, fearless and replete, child-like fully, overcome by Divinity.  The God-Man wins.

Joy climbs blush with the morning--sun bursts crimson on the crests, exposing earthy reality.  This house, no more divided, is open for all to see.  Transparency.  In the mountains and valleys, across the heavens only Love covers me. 

A new name flows like honey from his lips, sweet water from the Rock.  A honeybee, I sip nectar of a Prince.  I am His.

I an an ocean blessed, Wind-driven ebb and flow of God.  Love reveals Himself in me, quenches thirst and stirs afresh delight, inflaming soul--a wick, now saturated in the wet, oil of His gaze. 

New day breaks.  I see His face and rise as light wakes golden the grains of sand.  Promised glory glistens among the shadows, disappearing, and I limp barefoot across the dunes, washed, clean, free.

What sets your soul soaring?

 

Photo:  Cardigan Bay, Wales - flickr - BuildArk