120620
00:43
Rage
the most petty of passions is for me a literary device; a mining of
past events seen differently from current perspectives fluid shaken
not stirred steered & consumed.
I
think now what drove my mother to heights of insane behavior was
retrospectively my unblinking dispassionate analysis. What in former
times I thought intuitive sensing her near the point of killing me
defenseless. Tears or complaint the fatal trigger.
My
father died a few years ago. Mother predeceased him by some fifteen
years; long divorced after 27 years of marriage. I'd taken to
inquisition his sense of truth about all things family tiny &
immense in previous times when together. The parameters of my quest
far ranging definitions deep expectation explicit. We'd become
friends at last before his final day . . . when he called to say
goodbye then died. He 92, I something like 67 I misremember the age
and time irrelevant the calm sincerity of saying, “I'll miss you
dad . . . “ Then silence--he'd disconnected.
Then
I wept as I weep now for the love remembered always sought never
expressed but at the final moment realized now; only a friend calls
to say goodbye before the final leave taking and no “see you later”
possible.
Now
even now I weeping realize that the greatest lover of all what we
call God who is a friend too. Death in this moment instantly
resurrected different remembering I have no right to be alive; so
often mangled drown slandered and crushed.
Yet I
live why?
We
are mere clay recycled endlessly by the Potter who taking the cracked
cup mended or shards may at times merely return us to clay or dust
for water is required otherwise return the spinning wheel.
The
cosmos?
Vincent's
Starry Starry Night a window to infinity beyond the fire trees
writhing over the village if only seen the eyes of Glory & the
Eyes of God seeking seeing us.
To
forgive is not to forget but to remember differently creating the
world we wish to inhabit as incarnated by us . . . and now more so
now and growing I am forgiven my anger and rage toward my mom &
dad & our Mother/Father parents of everything.
. . .
the Who is no treacly
yes to everything we wish for knowing no for now or forever is better
at times. How could I know this only now since having ridden the
Dragon of My Rage reaching high and low the height width breadth
infinite length knowing the origin of my fear and terror redeemed &
for me & for us all God is no mere word upon the flesh of dead
trees ink or dancing serifs upon either in actuality not a name but a
presence and we being binary must say yes or no
Should
I leave you now for real this moment silent eternally I will still
sing in reply to the love notes of/from God through other hearts and
souls conscious God & Heaven within us.
My
truth & troth
amen.
Goodbye
friend be well do no harm be kind to all others
beginning
best blest with your self/soul/consciousness.
. . . in reply to a comment by irene carol sznobersznober # Sunday, June 17, 2012 5:55:34 AM
