She Is

Who she is 

Is she who is.
She is who –

She is –

will be
has always been.
 

The I Am

named her

from the fiery branches
of a tender embrace;
a smoothing voice,
in a worldly wilderness.

The Word who

raises the valleys,

who levels the uneven.

"You are as I Am,"
came the spark of inspiration
expired from that 

ethereal,

never expiring, 

Flame.

Beautiful

as a fabled
Linden Tree Isle,

which lends its name.
Strong 

as prayers

prayed for
She who is.
Weak 

as faith

that prays.

Alive

as that

Burning Presence

burning within each.

She is who knows.

Who knows what it is.

The I Am

The I Be

The I Exist

No,

She does not do.

No,

She does not speak.

No,

She does not

but

BE

Who she is.

The I Am 

claimed her,

named her,

and each of you,

and me,  

claimed,

named,

proclaimed

To be.

Nothing more;

Nothing less

Than

Blessed.

As am I –

And you –

By all that has been

once the Prologue

Bespoke

And Became.

She is me

As much as I am her

As much as I am of,

And she is of,

And you are of,

The I Am.

“Do not doubt

Only believe”

The non-expiring Logos 

expires.

“Live life

Eternal,

Abundant,

As You are in

The I Am.

Alive in me,

As I am alive

In The I Am.”

“Go, then, be.”

She knows.

The I Am,

Breathed.  

© James F. McIntire

All rights reserved.

2017