Do Not Distract Me

 

Do Not Distract Me

(“Do not turn to idols or make gods of cast metal for yourselves; I am the Lord your God. Leviticus 19:4)

Somewhere in the distant past a nearby star
exploded to give the universe cosmic relief,
and left these rocks strewn along the river
sunning on the banks beneath my feet.

The flat ones are good for skipping,
I’ve practiced since I was a kid
and made them jump twelve times or more
before I dove in for a swim.

Others built cairns, starting with the larger ones,
balancing one course and then the next. A minaret in
miniature, a monument, an altar.
I do not know who laid these so precisely,
hunting each stone to complete the work.

I confess I have not built one; but found, they
silence me. Patience and quiet along the river,
beside the trail,
they do not speak, but help me hear
the thankful coolness of the air.

There are barely enough to make a difference,
yet we still keep pouring our emotions into
molten crucibles manufactured in a culture of hate.
Bronze or stonewall, our gilded images
prove nothing other than contempt for those
who have not squared themselves within our foursquare
temples.

I hope I can say, or will say someday, “I am addicted to
no one.” I hope you can tell, or will see someday, I have
put no one inside a cage. Do not distract me with your
false displays
of deity and spirituality.

No, I will stack my stones on the river, for,
I did not stumble this time; I had not fallen.
I was worn and I was weeping, I was sore, and
sleeping escaped my mind torn between
off-the-shelf-gods I thought I knew
and the silent one who was more elusive.

I may visit the river today, or next week.
I pray there are stones enough to pray my love in layers
to the God who speaks louder than
printed lines and stars torn asunder.
You, distant and so near to me, have
become to me the God of mercy,
the God of infinite wonder.

The Gods We Invented

The Gods We Invented

(“People who try to save their lives will lose them, and those who lose their lives will save them.” Luke 17:33)

Everybody wants a new slate,
Everybody wants their past erased,
Nobody wants to leave it blank,
Nobody wants to be unsafe.

This is where we find ourselves,
or lose our faith,
or find the earth between our toes again.

This is where we lose ourselves,
or find the truth,
or lose our place in the galaxy.

It is torture to believe so doubtless,
every objection must be answered,
every opinion cast in stone.
We write it in permanent ink,
but alone with just our heart beat and
our brain waves
we admit we pray too often because
we want the magic again.

And while you prayed for me, I still suffered,
while you argued with me, my pain increased.
While you pressed the issue, the pressure increased.
Your arguments and anecdotes provided no relief.

And while I prayed for you, you still hungered,
while I counseled with you, your tears still flowed.
While I missed the signals, the stigma remained.
My good advice and attention proved less than you hoped.

I am less confident; and less confined.
I memorized all the evidence; but not the mystic.
I am still hurting, still have scars, still have unanswered prayers,
and still am lonely beyond description.
But now no one will argue my faith is at fault,
for my faith no longer belongs to me, my faith has
been erased. I do not mind starting over, I have nothing
left to prove.

Everybody wants greater love,
Everybody wants their past ignored,
Nobody wants their life erased,
Nobody wants to be unsafe.

To begin again we must destroy the gods we invented,
and find a new reckoning in the kingdom of the forgiven.