The Divine Dialogue


Return, sons of Man.
Return to the dust from which
you were taken.

Where were you in the day
I laid the foundations of the

In the sixth day,
the day of man,
and the day of the number of the sons of man,
I formed you from the dust of Earth.

You have your being from me
but will have none of my blessing.
Return,  sons of man,
to the dust from which
you were taken.

How long should I suffer you?

Dust you are,
dust shall be.


Return, Lord.


Return, sons of man.
Should I heal you?

I take no pleasure in your death.
That you should return and live,
I am willing.

Look how I speak
as if I were like you.
Make the attempt, speak to me
although I am the unimagined spring
of all you imagine.

My ways are not yours;
I will not always forbear.
Return, sons of man.


Return, Lord.
How long?


Return, sons of man,
How can I induce you?

You have not seen,
– your eye is filmed with dust –
You have not heard
– your ear is stuffed  –
You have not thought
– your heart is sealed

I cannot tell you
what I keep safe
for the runaway.

Shed your sloth –
as if you love your own good,
return, sons of Man!


Return, Lord.
How long
must we wait?

Our thousand is your day;
our moments heavy.

Where were you in the day I turned?
I was broken in an instant;
I was beguiled;
I am lost, I now perceive.

How long?
Return, Lord.


Return, sons of man.
Recall the day of your betrothal,
when the Sons of God sang for joy,
divine groomsmen in the morning of all mornings.

There I breathed into you my Breath,
you became more than living dust.
Then your heart flamed with the
fire of Me that is Myself;
you were warmth and light.

I was not without you,
nor were you without me.

In the seventh day,
the day of God,
the number of the day of God’s repose,
heart to Heart,
beneath the trees,
you pledged your love to Me.

Should I make for myself eyes
to weep with the tears of the sons of man?



Return, Lord.
How long
will we wait for you?
How long will we stare upon our own sores
and not return to you?

We have afflicted ourselves
with bruises and lacerations from our own fingers,
with wailing and vomiting.
By the will of your enemy
we are flying apart in dark places;
we dissolve to
dust whipped by colorless winds;
in desert places we fly apart unwilling.

We look to you,
but do not see even the edges
of your garment.

We raise our hands;
we touch nothing.

We forget to weep for ourselves
feeding on dung and ashes;
to ashes we return
fading into dolten slumber

Who raises us to sudden
of our misery?

Who are you, Lord?



In the eighth day,
the day of God and man together,
and the number of the day of Godman,
I, the Lord, begot the Son of Man anew.

I, the Lord, raised Man from the halls of death;
I walked Hades’ halls, I was the Lord;
I was the Son of Man.

I went down into the pit;
I did not dissolve;
I was not severed nor did I corrupt myself.

I walked there unharmed, untempted;
I grasped hands
with Adam;
I solaced
with man I went to the depths;
with God
man came back.

Return, O sons of man.
Blessed you will be if you


Return, O Son of Man!
Return to the Dust
which cries to you:

you have wept with tears of men;
now, look,
I weep also:
one tear for you is hard-wrung from my dusty eyes.

The Lord is grieved with a man’s heart.
This I have felt with sudden knowing.

I am appalled; I faint;
I cannot bear the wounding.
It was I,  Lord.

If I have sinned,
now I beseech you
return me good for evil:
that your goodness may be enlarged.
Fit me to walk the holy path with you.

I will go down,
the paths of death
to the halls of life;
what is the valley of the shadow of death,
if you are with me?


I fail of all that I have said.
The sons of man at best
speak airy nothings.

God is righteous,
every man a liar;
I have never told the truth to you.

If I blessed you,
where would the blessing be?


Yet blessed you are,
blessed you shall be,
blessed have you ever been:

blessed without halting and stricture
in blessing untempered;
blessed in your Name by all of your makings;

by your own good blessing
in your own true Person in your own true Being
from the Fountain of your own true Father
blessed always
with your own true Spirit
always blessed.

Amen, amen, amen.

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