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Modern Reformation: Thinking Theologically


Published Saturday, January 1, 2022 By Matthew Nies

Cliffside, all I could ever see hidden in mist;
I diatribe the great air unaware if up or down
Holds my feet stone-sure, when rapture lifts
A veil to magnificence surpassingly profound.

And instantly, universe, glowing stars as at a grasp,
Surging past a billion galaxies free-anchored
Into constant nothing—ducking, twisting, racing, splash!
Into the deep, cave black abyss, adrift despair. Sword

Light heaves me dripping to the sun. I am one
To infinity’s face, a naturally selected complication
In the light of all creation. I am undone.
A gentle breeze carries me back to that misted canyon,

Where I first faced the ages’ Awe and saw my honor
Slanted by eternal height, width, breadth, and depth.
I glance and see an unexpected mirror; I hear a whisper:
“Of all, you, image-bearing carrier of my breath.”

Matthew Nies

  • Matthew Nies

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