The Body Electric

I sing the Body electric,
With much more melody than Whitman,
For I sing a Body that is even more beautiful
Than that which is made with fear and wonder.
I sing the Body eclectic,
Made up of many members,
Not take-a-class-and-sign-a-covenant
And become a member members,
But hands that serve,
Feet that GO with the gospel,
Hearts and minds that make disciples,
Eyes that fix themselves on Jesus
As they run the race relentlessly.
Ears that hear the voice of the voiceless
And mouths that speak for them,
And for all the ears which will not hear
Without a herald.

I sing the Body electric,
Which shocked me out of death,
Paddles on a heart that did not love.
A mustard seed faith
Led to a miniscule prayer
Which asked for friends
And led me to the Body electric
Through a different type of friend
Than I bargained for—boy,
Was that friend a good one.
But that mustard tree didn’t stop there.
It led me to a precious blossom
In gray hoodie and jeans,
Better than I could ask or imagine—best
Friends are forever in the Body electric,
Faithful foundation from fire.
When I asked for a fish I didn’t get a stone,
Or a fish, but a feast.
As some slipped away,
A cat crawled in and lay on my lap
And taught me a gentle zeal.

This is why I sing the Body electric,
A shock to life, a spark to love.
The Body eclectic,
A feast full of friends,
The Body eccentric,
Strangers in a strange land,
The Body of Christ.

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