a meditation on Psalm 139
In the beginning was the Word, John said.
Before thought uttered or action done
Before one task was even half begun
Before we knew the taste of wine and bread.
In the beginning was the Word that bled
Into the urtext of ourselves written by the One
Who scores, presses, cast into moulds, runs
Into rough paper like watercolour red
We were written on you from the start
Under our skin, before the beginning
Before the Word.
A Word that brands us to the bone,
Shatters our sight,
Milks out our deep repose.
You are our parchment
Our vellum.
We are iron-gall.
We scratch our blether on to you.
Even before Abraham was, I am,
You said.
We are written on You.
Here before we were
Ready for us to know You,
Acknowledge You.
“You knit me together in my mother’s womb,
You formed my inward parts.”
You wrote us
And we write us on You.