I’m sorry I don’t
talk about you more
that even in
closed circles your name
on my tongue sounds
cliche
that I can’t put us into words
fighting old-as-mankind
stereotypes I’ve been taught
to let my actions illuminate
where words give no light but
I feel like my silence screams
volumes like I’m ashamed to
know you. But I’d like to set the
record straight once and for all.
cause people who think they
know me assume I’m Wiccan
that I need to be toke’n to be
this Zen this calm amidst the
apocalypse they don’t see
it’s your kind words in my mouth
your soft-spoken acceptance of
our human-ness Why? Am I that
poor or that good of an imitation
See, the “religious” clan
once assumed that you were a
demon and the people thought
your prophets spoke with alcoholic
ecstasy I suppose I’m not
that far off the mark but
I wish it was plainer for people
to see
You.Saved.Me. You. In Person.
Often I talk and you listen but
when I shut up long enough for
you to get a word in your voice
is like nourishment the more I
pay attention the more I’ve come
to know peace–Brokenness mended
is attainable–You’ve taught me
there is no empowerment in bitterness
or hate but to see my own mended parts
behind the tantrum-lashing pain in my
“enemy”‘s eyes You remind me
that I am no better
On my own
and when I remember all that’s
good in me comes from you and
all those threats, jabs, slaps, cries
in the night are merely the absence
of your light so how could I feel
anything but compassion? feel
anything but saved from that daily
death life’s only guarantee all that
living and dying without you can
know is darkness. I’d like to tell
all of those so caught up in the idea
of hell that if darkness is the absence
of light then hell is merely the absence
of you it’s a choice and anyone who knows
what it’s like to burn–I’m talking about
feeling dead inside– knows how broken hearts
don’t sting they flame but you are the
antidote. I am sorry for how people
who claim to love you go so wrong.
how no amount of Bible-thumping
judgement-spewing, rule-obeying
ever swayed anyone to have a one-
-on-one with you. How we took “judge
not lest ye be judged” as us vs. us It’s only
seeing through your eyes I’ve resisted
succumbing to that state that it doesn’t
matter how many verses I quote where
my car’s parked on Sundays or where
my political allegiances lie if how I
treat someone makes them curse your
name. The best I do with my incapable
hands is to say I fear nothing this world
can take away that death is overcome
and afterlife is only home. I would say that
to verify your existence is to shut the
hell up and listen I would say that I
lost my religion long ago that Jesus
loves me this I know b/c He, himself
tells me so that try as I may I’m still
human and for them to judge you
through me is to critique the refraction
not the source like the dawn through
stained glass our spirits are all
fighting to get back to you and
when I stop fighting and just
–be–
with you
the closer I am
to peace
the better I am
to myself to others to you
I pray someday to have
the words
to speak this truth
about you.