Sunday, May 8, 2016

May 8


6 comments:

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  3. It started when I heard angels.
    in the dark
    In the pink bedroom in Manhattan
    Singing like in the Hansel and Gretel Opera
    Watching those abandoned children in the forest.

    Then the Kotel before I converted— how that wall moved me towards it
    Surrounded by mobs of people in Jerusalem
    And only my orthodox sister in law who had told my
    Husband not to marry me years before— she was the one who
    got
    what was happening —
    As so many bobbed and weaved intoned prayers
    Whose language I didn’t
    And don’t
    Understand

    But then there was

    nothing. I stopped believing and there was

    flat death and the grotesquerie of bodies in coffins
    til earlier this year at the unitarian church in
    Riverside — my dead parents saying I’m here and my
    Grandmother saying I’m here too. We’re here in this place
    Where all things are accepted, where you recognize the hymn
    That you sang at school. We’re here
    With the homeless lady sitting in the back with all her cats
    And with the punk couple that just wandered in.
    We’re here and we’ll always be here and we never left
    Even though you couldn’t hear us

    Which reminds me, last fall — the giant buddha carved into the rock

    At Laitan and the incense sticks being lit, and these young
    People showing me how to do the prostrations and pointing
    Out the sculptures of Kwan Yin that I recognized from
    My grandparents’ house when I was a child.
    Someone showed me how to tie a red ribbon around

    A branch on a tree. You wish for something, the young guy said —

    I tied the red strip on, and what I wished for was to
    Believe
    In something
    And to once again hear voices telling me I had not
    Been left alone
    In the
    Forest.

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  4. Spiritual Journey

    My God
    Where art thou?
    When men are men
    and rape and plunder
    Rob and maim
    When peace
    seems years away
    even decades from
    fruition
    A wise man once said
    It is His Will
    when our own free will gives me
    doubt
    as to the purpose and ultimate
    care we should expect in the form of
    Blessing
    When death seems so casual
    When gangs
    And diabolical regimes
    are permitted to
    cause shootings
    Wars and genocide
    My grief bears no
    resemblance to
    a faith
    My purpose is only
    to say
    I am alive and believe
    In nothing more
    than a God forgotten
    A paradise lost
    In the shuffle of humanity
    and the random acts of men
    to destroy something
    Beautiful
    My free will
    The freedom we choose to do
    What is not right
    I feel God is still here
    He has a plan
    It is written
    A document
    of faith
    Of tradition
    But my religion
    has disappeared
    My faith is a hope
    A shimmer of light
    Still in the heart
    Of my waiting
    for His return
    A great moment
    when all men
    Realize
    Truth

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  5. I really like the lines: I feel God is still here
    He has a plan
    It is written
    A document
    of faith
    Of tradition
    But my religion
    has disappeared

    those really work for me

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