What Thrust Me Into The Light? Poem by Mark Heathcote

What thrust me into the light?
Opened my heart like a ripe quince
Sweetened; my soul like a fig.
Snapped my body; like a green bog myrtle twig.

Was it you my Lord or was it you, my God

What was it waiting in that darkened forest?
Waiting for me to wander to its hearts edges
To climb through its bleeding privets
Through that thorny hedge of my own, defences.

Was it you my Lord or was it you, my God

Even now, Lord, I'm neither too hot nor cold
To fall into that throat of despair
And linger there without hope.
To float in Moses' basket be found out not drown.

Was it you my Lord or was it you, my God
Was it you who left me outlawed abroad?
Who sent word for me my Lord God?