All the Depths of Me

Heard about the multiverse?  The theory that our universe, vast though it is, is one of a possible infinity of universes?  This is used by some scientists to reckon that the ‘miracle’ of human life has evolved without the need for a Creator of any sort.  Hmmm…


Whatever about the ‘multiverse’,

There are two universes I know:

The immense cosmic entity,

In which Earth is but a tittle,

And the vast interior world

That is all the depths of me.


If mankind would boldly go,

Warping through outer space,

Seeking?  Perhaps an alien twin?

Then, so too could I venture

Inwards, map-less, trembling,

To find His presence within?


For the scale of each is truly vast;

A lifetime’s traverse couldn’t exhaust.

As well as determination’s grit,

Equipment is life sustaining vital:

Oxygen for one, faith the other.

Journey’s survival requires outfit.


Easier far to stay on the periphery,

To perch, gravity’d to the familiar,

Than take ship to unknown places,

Hoping, trusting, enduring,

With courage for the long silences

That bridge the void’s vast spaces.


For such treks are a waiting game,

Where speed is a deceptive mode.

Whether to Mars or our soul’s core,

Patience may give way to fatigue,

And, for the interior life at least,

Faint hearts persevere no more.


For God is there as Mars is there:

Thus the territories’ firm blueprint.

But encounters are precious both,

When joys are mixed with tedium,

And seasoned travellers may help

Support those who waver loath.


Dangers, likewise, afflict both realms.

Space travel may encounter perils,

While the soul’s lair is sin-occluded:

Dare we face a roiling maelstrom?

Dare we face the raw truth of us?

Fallible, fractured, self-deluded?


Though I may never reach the stars,

As chosen few to vanguard our race,

Yet still that inner mysterious zone,

Is common-close heritage to all:

A universal invite to that inner-verse,

Where He gladly hosts His throne.


He who lives in love, lives in God,

And God lives in him – could it be?

Could it really be that He is there?

That in all the dim depths of me,

The Almighty sings a love song,

Serenading me with wordless prayer?


For I am a tabernacle of my God,

Unworthy for sure, but no matter:

It is His delight, a lover’s choice.

And if I would be still and wait,

Faith-firm and graced by sacrament,

I would hear that eternal voice.


To risk the contemplation challenge?

Surely the highest act of humankind?

To voyage that strange formless den,

So close and yet so daunting far,

Perchance to find myself, warts and all,

Where a treasure awaits, subtly hidden.