Three Poems: Meditations on Mark 4:39-40

Wonderful 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.”