Jack Spratt

120818 13:33 museum
Hope I'm a poor representative of Jesus to you since in knowing myself I remain but a dim light projected into the starry heavens above me, enlighten/darkened, at any point in the vast continuity or contiguity of consciousness. Rendered more clearly now as the essence, or virus, of ethic and moral thought applied to reality.

Merely this moment in time a particle of sentiency too aware of my potential bigotry, hypocrisy, egoic, desire, longing, loving what? Death or life?

That said I better know Jesus and God in the following sense they can and are at times manifest in the laughter of a child, the tears of and old man, the sighs of a man with a maid. Or for that matter a man with a man or woman with a girl. Mattering not one iota the mix of gender it all is love incarnate.

Identity slips away with age and those concerns expressed by some addicted to idolatry the marks of ink upon the flesh of dead trees written and applicable to that time and place need not be applied now any more than circumcision or dietary laws . . . .

KISS = Keep It Simple Stupid

I am not religious in any sense that I can be proud of, or pretend to know more of than what is within each soul created before birth lasting long after death. And of those living dead I would quicken them with light yet in doing so would eclipse their desire to linger in death asleep while walking and talking and gossiping over whatever. To love my enemy as myself is to know that at differing points we both pass along the path to what shall we call it Heaven? Yet why Heaven when Heaven is within you as our beloved Jesus said.

And is not all of it merely an illusion; a drug of choice? What some call Maya. What is the meaning of four letter words: love, true, hate? Not even God does that but merely politicians manipulating your sense of safety dependent exclusively on their executive powers garnered by theft of everything in sight.

Scarcely have I answers for myself in life or death or rebirth. Resurrection or reincarnation it is all part of a life lived. Again? Yet questions abound jesting jousting tilting wind milling Jesuits and I laugh at that and myself for the confession of what I so admire in creation the minds surviving the trials of what -- all of it?

Arcing across the desert darkness of my mind was the image of myself face down weeping kissing the cold gray flags of Westminster in construct or as now begging alms to survive in a time of perfect indifference.

After Randy's death I sat writing a poem that had gestated years but mostly aboard Paradox sailing unfed for three days alone ripped to shreds by his, "Daddy will I ever see you again?" I cannot now recall the words but the spirit lingers even now. It said in essence that I loved sailing the oceans of God's tear in the palm of his Hand. To which, on presentation, rector Cannon Peter Spencer, my spiritual father then said: "heresy"

Submerging me in the alchemical retort, a well of unknowing, wherein I continued to breathe but nominally until now i kneel naked before the cross wooden faux no pee no shit no bloody nails of foot or attachment singing my sad songs for a Jesus who speaks in the darkness of this cathedral of words lunar illumed words i cannot share

For if I did it would abort your self investigation and creation the virgin birth of the real you and a healer i'd not be. Hansom does as hansom is, enough is enough; since all life lives through the genius of God else it in reality be but a darkening dream; smoke and mirrors soon gone

120818 15:56 after thoughts after a pause

I think God has no ego and therefor is the servant of servants not imperious. The thing I lost in my near castration was my sentimentality for love knowing it now as something fierce never faux. Something, an energy, both resilient and fragile like life always is. At least for me it is and let it be me for you, specific or all; a passion in compassion to define what I am. Empathy for your seeing what pain and suffering is as experienced and defined; your TRUTH.

Could it be that my truth of God is modeled on my own self abandoning?
Or is that merely another conceit? God is always God and I am what i am; nothing at all.

amen

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved