Blank slate

‘Our father’,
you have a name
that once could not be uttered
then at some point could.
Wilful, independent, suck it and see –
‘I will be what I will be.’
Written never spoken – then life breathed into it and
YHWH gets vowels and becomes flesh.

When we call you God what are we calling you?
When we call you father what are we calling you?
Are these more than tags? More than categories?
More than errors? Are you ours to translate?

We learn your grammar to make sense of our vocabulary.
But you must live here as idiom,
slip from lips between curses.

Blank slate
is what you promise.
Do I really have to start again
again?
Always the page turning.
Never the full stop

07.10.2013

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