A Poem Preceding Easter: 2015

Messy houses filled with secret staircases
leading neither up nor down and built of starved excuses
stellar and extending to the past and to the future
as a hedge to make secure our souls against their cold inflation.tumblr_mh1jjoVnRI1rix1r7o1_1280Idols stand resplendent in their regal good deed rags
atop secure safe mantels stolid, still
in false security within these homes of disarray
and all the forlorn deeds of our own self-besotted hands.

No corner is untouched or deemed untouchable,
no conclusion inescapable, for we did soon discover,
no–we were shown–these messes low and broken,
jangly jagged in the pieces of our ruined hostile hovels.tumblr_nkee9iBwQ81qzs7m3o3_1280This is that tableau displayed of our lost searéd conscience,
disembodied, floating room to room and deeply mourning
what’s been lost, and worse, abandoned
in the losing of idealism’s living throbbing shine.

And our hearts, once lifted up and strong
are finally unadorned and brought down low,
so broken, so contrite and finally open to this Living Invitation
to be drawn at last into a bigger Story…tumblr_nkee9iBwQ81qzs7m3o1_1280to be remade and molded, gripped and filled, to be enfolded
in the new creation by a Mercy Stark and so unyielding,
by a Love Severe and so unwieldy in our messy rooms
and serial sin-stained walls and monstrous ways of utter horror.

It takes a broken body and it takes a different stain,
one indelible and permanent, scarlet red and bloody glowing
in the darkness of our tragedy’s pretentious phony triumph…
see the Hand that rips our masks away to make us whole again!tumblr_mqnl59GkbI1qe31lco1_r1_500Eat and drink, remember!  Then forget the past and rest within those ruins
at last cleansed and emptied of their wreck, delivered of the dreck
and durm und strang of fallen souls, set free of weights unbearable,
interminable, mighty, proud and fell and flawed and haughty.

And then, look…out there, thru yon window broken, there!
Behind that dingy jagged pane of brittle separation,
see the Cross so Stark, transcendent, final ever resting place
of all our sin and wrong, and also Final ever new beginning

of this race, we human butterflies set free from chrysalises left behind,
discarded casually forever…
and yet never left for death to feed or to devour,
for they will someday be raised again
to catch up with us and to be made one again…tumblr_nkf5patY1J1trfg04o1_1280to be made whole…
again…at last…again…
amen, again…
amen.

The Universe…and Mama

Constance, I found this delightful quote:

“I am trying to see things in perspective. My dog wants a bite of my peanut butter chocolate chip bagel. I know she cannot have this, because chocolate makes dogs very sick. My dog does not understand this. She pouts and wraps herself around my leg like a scarf and purrs and tries to convince me to give her just a tiny bit. When I do not give in, she eventually gives up and lays in the corner, under the piano, drooping and sad. I hope the universe has my best interest in mind like I have my dog’s. When I want something with my whole being, and the universe withholds it from me, I hope the universe thinks to herself: “Silly girl. She thinks this is what she wants, but she does not understand how it will hurt.”
— THEORIES ABOUT THE UNIVERSE by Blythe Baird

Now…I don’t know if universe thinks this or not.  The universe has never talked to me, or even capered madly in front of me making silly faces (Mama has done this by the way…giggle!  She funny…She very funny).

I think a lot about the idea that is gaining prevalence in modern thought that the universe is sentient, and is benevolent as well.  My mind is strange and quirky…because I wonder:  why benevolent?  Why not malevolent?  Why not indifferent?

Here is my take:  I do believe that we as creatures are innately wired with a sense of justice, of “ought to be”.  Think about this…whether you attribute origins and causes to God or to a process or if you believe in “always was always will be”…we still all have it, the “ought to be”.

We are also wired with a sense that rationality and reason are good guiding principles and that our reality can be (partially) grasped and explained with such, and again, I will simply giggle when I am confronted with elaborate well reasoned arguments why everything is meaningless and absurd (and these beautiful lines of reasoning use reason and rationality in an exquisite way…giggles again and a nose chuckle simper).

We are also wired with a deep sense that our world around us speaks of something “Beyond”, and this sense is deeply stirred in majestic acts or displays in creation.  Creation is evocative of that Beyond, regardless of what or who we attribute “Beyond” to…we are wired to know we dwell in the heart of a Mystery, and that mysterium tremendum is our dwelling place…and we long for that mystery to be made known, fully.

Last, we have an innate wired sense of Beauty…and Truth (both with capitals intended).

Here is why I posted this, besides that I love the quote:  I am happy that Mama has messed with me and done these things for me that the quote refers to.  I am overjoyed that the Incarnation of God Themself, the One known as Jesus, undertook an act simultaneously creative and destructive all at once:  when He displayed Their passion for all (even the universe?) and made every single axis of being and existence intersect in that great and terrible offense and wonder known as the cross, rich with its attendant implications. (as an aside, even if you are not christian in faith, reading the implied actions and existential declarations that the cross entails is a matter of great interest.  you would most likely need to go to old time-y writers such as the early church fathers…but there are some fabulous modern theologians who in moments of philosophical bliss wax eloquent about it…Rissa says check it out…and gives a loving shrug and shoulder punch even if you don’t 🙂 )

I don’t know much about God, truthfully.  The more I find out, the less I know…but the even more honest truth?  I don’t know a dadburn thang about the universe.  It don’t say much.

In jovial irony, tongue just a lil in cheek…

Charissa

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