What is one to do when one has been undone?

What is there to measure
when the ruler has disappeared?

What is there to walk through
when all walls have crumbled
and every stone has demineralized
into the ground of being?

What is there to objectify
when no subject is?

What is power
when even God has humbled himself so deeply
to allow himself to be powerless upon a cross,
to be the lowly
who lets himself go unrecognized,
even as he is the stillness and silence
behind everything?