October 16, 2017

 

Wash away my sins

 
 
 

Wash away my sins

It started to rain and I
 wondered where you
were, Atom.
  Every sickness has a
  Naked language. A
mother-tongue.
  When you come into
 this world, you're not
prepared for anything.
  You're not prepared
  For life, for living, for
  spirituality, for a church
family.
  Gradually you gather these
things
  to you, towards you. You
  accumulate them like buried
treasure or something like that.

   A tear falls off this
cheek. That's the mystery
 of life. In this dream, I am standing
 With Atom in a rain-forest
 Surrounded by space, matter,
 Beast, animal, nature, and
  Here the supernatural speaks
  To me through (man), and
  Woman and doomed child.
  That intrinsic struggle of life.
  My brother, my father, my mother,
  Our animals, our pets. Our
  Dogs, Atom's kitten and the
World speaks to me of love,
Tenderness and vertigo and
I'm falling, falling, falling
  With open arms through

The blood-knot.
The opinion poll.
The years of darkness
That I thought would
Always be there, gone
Now.

Tenderness

I forgive Ambronese (for the hurtful things that were said)
  And I forgive Rooka.
 The love they never
  gave me. I went through years of darkness.
  Deep suicidal depression.
Masked by illness and disability.
 There's a world out there
  Filled with dreamers. For
  Every dreamer there's a sinner.
  For every sinner, there's a
  Dreamer. I am always writing
  From my heart and there's
 Truth in what I write, of this
  I am aware but I'm always
   Asking myself these days,

 Am I writing for God, for the Lord Jesus Christ.
I am writing for His grace, for His glory, for his
   mercy.
 There's a waiting game. A time for everything
 Under the sun's grace, the glory of the moonlight

 There's order in suffering (death must come).
  A kind of finality. There's chronic emptiness
And a wound that just won't go away.

  There's the emotional reading of matter.
 The writing of the future is an invasion.
 The writing of the past folds of metaphor.
 Knots that have to be undone with fury.

There's madness in embracing the paper.
 The image of the blindfold staring forth.
 Love and family life has always nourished
Me, my soul, my wandering spirit.

 You're the woman with white shark teeth,
  the storm in her eyes and an alphabet in her
 soul, I want a man to say to me. To discover my faults, my limits,
 My intellectual-side,
the history of my shadow (the wolf in sheep's clothing). It is
 in that man's arms that I want to lose myself in.







Article © Abigail George. All rights reserved.
Published on 2017-08-21
Image(s) are public domain.


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