Mark 4:39-40: Three Poems as Meditations on the Verses


So, I was watching the workings of that
Strange in-between place called adulthood
Where you’re not happy, but you’re not
Devastated either, ’cause it’s understood

That for the sake of survival, wonderful
Questions about the reason for little
Lubricants of falsity can be asked by the
One’s who don’t turn them into no-middle

Answers where it can’t be remembered how
To listen to a flower thank its seed for the roots
Of its existence, while the one sits on a bench in a garden
So that one’s feet can take a rest from riding in boots

And I asked the angel to explain why this happened.
The angel said, “‘Cause, sleepers come from where they cannot enter
And go into places from which they cannot return,
Which is why their head can’t find there heart’s center.”

“Why?” I asked. “Because,” the angel said,
“There’s no light allowing them to be who
They are as they become in time, as part of forever.
And if you don’t stay awake, you’ll lose the light too.

“See, because the light in the source
From which the soul comes into being
By letting you listen to, but not be carried away by,
Thinking that saying goodbye is freeing

“Yourself from the joy of saying hello, while patiently
Carrying your burden, maybe out of shame
Or maybe out of compassion, by thinking that others don’t
Want to hear what you have to say, or even want to know your name;

“And that’s how people forget there souls and die?” the angel said.
“How?” I asked. The angel said, “They plant
Dead trees and pick live ones, by trying to see their reflection
In the mirror with closed eyes, — but they can’t.”

The Prayer that You Pray

I was watching some uncomfortable
Memories while the angel was explaining to me
How “This is because that is. And in order
For the universe to exist, both must be there, see.”

But I didn’t, because I was looking for another
Person to be close to, even though no one else was there;
And it gave me goose-bumps to be so alone with myself,
Watching those uncomfortable memories from a chair.

As the angel continued my head began to
Wonder if Reality was truly the right word for a
Place that can only be expressed by those who aren’t
Completely understood by what they say.

So, it asked my heart and my heart said,
“Well, in the darkest place of inner-confusion
Rest an overpowering joy of love that creates
Astonishing beauty by stripping down the shapely illusion

“That such expressions are born by virtue of their own making.”
“And why not?” the angel said, “Because there, there’s a
Strange secret beauty of seemingly empty moments
Where your life becomes the prayer that you pray.”

All the Peaceful Travelers

He said, “… and humanity organizes
Itself in make shift conditions
By holding on — sure and steady —
To old traditions

“That ghettoize the world
With their collective view
Of the Human Soul, and hate
Because they don’t see ‘what is’ as true.

“But, what am I supposed
To do with that? I’ve known I was gay
Since I was six, boys have always been
Prettier than girls to me, what more can I say?

“Ya’ know, I did try to
Be normal and cool
By having a girlfriend back
When I was in high school,

“And I loved her very much —
But, no more than a good
Person who has made a friend of
Themselves to me — a good

“Friend. I remember how we
Once got a motel room and
There was this man and woman that we heard
In the next room having the most athletic sex ever and

“I couldn’t even make our situation work;
I tried and failed, miserably. I felt so
Empty hearted, and really sad for both of us.
But, it all helped me in the end, ya’ know.”

“How so?” I asked. He said, “‘Cause now,
All of my prayers talk back to me and teach me
And I’ve learned that we all have an ethical
Responsibility to hope if the world’s gonna be

“A better place, where all peaceful
Travelers don’t have to be ashamed to be who they
Are as they walk on their journey free of
Despair and in thankfulness for each day.”