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Thursday, March 04, 2004
Karma Eater
I was once told by a friend that I fear my spirituality. She's right. I am afraid of God, religion, and the ilk. Religion and spirituality are not the same thing. Knowing about God, and knowing God are not always mutually exclusive. This poem is in a response to that age old feeling of 'Who is God , what does He want, and does He exist?'
Karma Eater
There are Angels in the Garden
Under shade trees;
The tallest of whom
Man may call "Lord of Hosts".
A class is in session.
An instruction given--
Holy trumpet lessons.
Gabriel blow your crazy horn.
Death bellow sound.
Holy, Holy, Holy.
I read the Book.
I know what it said.
Seals and scrolls, floods and plague,
Shake my inner peace.
I can love what I can not see.
Faith be to me.
But-it is clear-
I can not love what I fear.
In Palestine and Israel,
The war still rages,
Neither side can put the guns down,
Because neither side can put the religion down.
Culture and duty are hard to escape,
Fighting over sacred desert,
Hating each other, blowing up, for your Holy Name.
Picture Heaven's dinner plate tonight-
My Karma, My Me in Life Soup.
The truth is in the bowl.
(Angels eat it with a knife and fork.)
Her bread sopped me up with a laying of hands.
Not a faith healing,
A faith stealing.
Forgotten in the eternal plan.
Lord, hear my prayer!
If you are Him--
Show me truth not some book.
Leadeth me to green pastures,
Away from burning dreams.
Or will tomorrow be the day that the world smells my ash incense?
Forever and ever.
Amen.
-posted by Nobius 1:06 PM #
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