Dust Divine Delivered to Dust: Lest his Creation Fall Apart

This evocative poetic reflection is directly from my heart and it shows exactly how I feel in the now. But it also simulates the Son of God who chose to reveal himself in Manoj (Man of Jesus). We think we understand the cross, but we often domesticate it. We turn a cosmic, reality-shattering moment into a sterile religious symbol. We forget the sheer tension of that day—the terrifying irony of human dust trying to bury the Divine, and a Father holding back the formatting of the universe just so it wouldn't undo itself in grief and fury.

This poem dives straight into that cosmic collision. It explores a "win-dictive" world that wanted a conquest of power, missing the One who came to win through the vulnerability of self-giving love. From the grave to the throne, here is a good look at the ultimate paradox: the day Heaven and earth intersected, and the universe held its breath. 

Yahweh knew what his Son was going through
When he was being crucified
By hateful people, stubborn in heart.
Still, He held his nerve,
Lest his creation fall apart.
How could the sun shine his light?
How could the sun make warm?
A generation so win-dictive,
They could not see the One who came
To win love through love only.
How could the earth hold itself
When the Son of Man—
The representative of all creatures made from dust,
Yet God in human form,
The Spirit that took upon the likeness of sinful flesh,
Yet had no sin, no curse—
Was delivered to dust by people
Whose dusty filth He came to cleanse?
Yahweh knew what his Son was going through
When he was being crucified
By hateful people, stubborn in heart.
Still, He held his nerve,
Lest his creation fall apart.
The earth could not hold on or hide
This Dust Divine.
For it is not from her;
It is not star-dust.
He came from space above that lay behind the curtains:
The Space of God.
At the intersection of Heaven and earth,
He is God's true image.
The earth gave him up,
For even the big fish
Couldn't hold Yahweh’s prophet
More than three days.
Lifting him up from the grave,
Yahweh's Spirit manifested—
The Spirit that once hovered
Over the formless, empty space
Now lifted him into God's holy place.
The human One with divine DNA
Is now a divine-human who defeated death
By dying to it,
When he lifted himself up,
As he had already said.
He was fed by virgin Mary's flesh,
A friend of sinful, outcast ones,
The only human in the divine presence,
The Right-Hand Man
At the right of Yahweh.
Yahweh knew what his Son was going through
When he was being crucified
By hateful people, stubborn in heart.
Still, He held his nerve,
Lest his creation fall apart.
The Son was God immortal,
Immune to death,
But died to kill death
From all human flesh—
To punish sin in his flesh,
To lift away the divine curse
Of death and decay,
For humans to access the Divine Presence
24/7, all through the year.
Cleansed by the life-blood
That covers the stench of death
With life's aroma,
To make holy our sinful flesh.
Yahweh knew what his Son was going through
When he was being crucified
By hateful people, stubborn in heart.
Still, He held his nerve,
Lest his creation fall apart.
To the Loving... Loyal... Living
Yours only,
Loving Rascal (and Shaper) 😘

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