Constance, John P says it!! Sez it well, and so much better than I try to…thanks Brother!!
We’ve all received it personally gift wrapped, by well-meaning friends, caring loved ones, and kind strangers. It usually comes delivered with the most beautiful of intentions; a buffer of hope raised in the face of the unimaginably painful things we sometimes experience in this life.
It’s a close, desperate lifeline thrown out to us when all other words fail:
Everything happens for a reason.
I’ve never had a tremendous amount of peace with the sentiment. I think it gives the terrible stuff too much power, too much poetry; as if there must be nobility and purpose within the brutal devastation we may find ourselves sitting in. In our profound distress, this idea forces us to run down dark, twisted rabbit trails, looking for the specific part of The Greater Plan that this suffering all fits into.
It serves as an emotional distraction, one that cheats us out of the full measure of our real-time grief and outrage. We stutter…
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Your bellies drag the ground,
crouched and coiled and waiting,
unsprung and deadly potent,
filled with waters, poison
imbibed, ingested, indulged,
you lurk and lay in waiting
to pounce on me defenseless,
beside dark pools malignant
with memories, dreams and reflections
that sit off kilter, cracked,
those springs of tales seductive
retold and twisted…clockwise
(remember that we used to live
anti-clock-wise? You recall?
Remember how that was?
Can you even do it now…
re-member?Your tails lashing hazy air
your tales lashing me in here,
deep inside, they probe and seek
to replicate themselves,
like viruses, contagious
half-truths bitter, poisonous
in decade-long half-lives
hanging like a blade
of time left to be served
in a sentence undeserved.But I swim rivers
pure and vital,
waters crashed on
clean stone, shattered
into liquid smithereens,
a million broken rainbow prismsclinging to the air together
to speak of wholeness
in the broken
gathering of them
all together andI breathe air and drink
the water of life immune
to your off-kilter philter.
So if you see me
(if you even bother
to look) and I am sick?
It is your own infected myth
I drain so you could simply stop,
quit worshipping the twisted past,
old box of pain, and you can join me,
once again beneath the stars,
beneath the moon in the spring rain
in the spring rain beneath the moon
the moon and rain so clean and pure
and free from stagnant pools.
Constance, as you know, I am so grateful for you, all of you who regularly read here. Your continued support indicates that at some level you share my desire to transition from death and things of death to Life, and from works to grace.
I have a reader who sent me a link to a video that is very important to them, and while I am not endorsing or decrying this video presentation, I am genuinely touched by the offering…and I think of the words of Precious Jesus: “They who are not against me are for me” (Mark 9:40).
Rather than post the link here, because I would like that content to be more driven by the author rather than the reader, I am going to instead post the link to the blog…and the video presentation that is shared. It is an interesting blog, and in far more ways than not, it is an ally blog.
Blessings, Anu…and in the way of Surrender may you find ever greater yielding.
Do Justly. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.