Just as it is impossible for us to conceptualize the cost of our lives to him—

Rictus of the Cross, pain poured out in blood and water,

Nor can we

picture our actual salvation—

Like little ones who have been told to put on their tiny space suits for a long trip through

Legs and arms into the jumpsuit, faces

Pressed against helmets, reflecting stars

All faith

We do not know how it is that we can pass through

From death to life, only that

He is the whale, the ark, the spaceship

Who can

Carry us home.