Just One Good Catch?
Is everyone, every single believer, having an intimate personal relationship with the same person Big Polygamy?
In wonder
Is everyone, every single believer, having an intimate personal relationship with the same person Big Polygamy?
By
M. L. Redford
the wayward spirit wafts in
through the window when the patterns of weeks, months passed, at last,
let go and shift
she moves about the room like Franny Glass making one or two things
flutter a bit, and is gone
out past the opposite shoulder as I turn in to see what I hear
to notice things
in the room which were always there but hadn’t been noticed for weeks
or maybe months
and which had obviously been there for a purpose, staring through the books
on the shelf to find
a forgotten bookmark, an absent fold, maybe a latterdaymexicanpink
autumnal ritual –
seven parts revelationinitiation and fifteen parts flutterbybestowal –
curiouser and curiouser
are the ways of the spirit: if I follow, will I flutter, will I perch or will I fall?
either way I’ll find
the pink of gist and need to meditate before I waft or get stolen
but the spirit talks
of grounding, without talking, for she is no airy/faeree: the meaning disappears
the more you look
but in looking at the unfindability you discover all the meaning for to see:
body, soul and beauty
but no room at the inn for language, ‘you can speak a hundred languages
if you want but
you’re never as wise as the illiterate who speaks with love in her heart’
she says, without a single word
but thought of a hundred languages smaller than the stars which float away;
the language of Waywarduese
butterflies about all over the points, and all of those points held
in one wing-spread,
colourful and puckering hold, sprinkled and dlappled like rain
Oh!
Can I have it?
Is it for me?
It’s for me?
It’s for me!
It’s Mine!
You stole it from me!
I’ll be generous and
share it with you
if you let me keep it.
Please
You slowly sink into Life
The Life that is your Life
Whatever it is you are
You are alive
In it
It may be
Aliveness
Wellness
In you
In me
“I don’t understand hate.”
“I will never understand hate.”
“Yeah me either.”
“Just don’t get how people can hurt other people”.
I found this deadly conversation on Facebook by artists authors thought leaders the ones who are entrusted to know better. Sadly our short collective memory blanks out how very close to yesterday back in our church days if you were one of many of the popular American religions you were taught to believe homosexuality led to Sodom and Gomorrah being destroyed. A whole two cities devoured by holy flalmes for tolerating that abomination.
It’s all interpreted right there in both Christina and Muslim religion’s holy writings. So, it’s something way different from the catch-all phrase “hate” that is causing so much pain and death discrimination and hurt.
For a minister at least one in this case the one in California to stand up and celebrate someone finally doing God’s will is pretty natural. It’s part of being “right”.
I’m reminding myself that my ancestors and my culture up till now have been violent. We wage justified wars that are still going on. We lynched black folks and have disrespected and rejected “sodomites” for centuries now.
Not long ago it was legit to kill Catholics then in turn Protestants for being Catholic or being Protestant then both killing Muslims. I’m pretty sure my ancestors being faithful and devout men and woman participated in all the holy killings back then because they continued right up to very close to the present being devout and holy killers. Being faithful and devout myself, I thought the “right” half of that crap was all good.
Holy killings. Fighting for whats right. Soldiers for freedom. We still do it. At least we can do is admit we do understand “hate”. That we are it. Whatever that word has come to mean. We do it. We have been doing it together.
I have. I understand “hate”. I have lived and continue to live hate.
Now I just wonder what I can do about it.
Wonder with me.
Brick by brick
Before building I make
brick by brick
Every solid symmetrical
Brick by brick
Each un-squared crumble-prone
Brick by brick
My precious bricks