Can one talk about God except through poetry?
No and yes,
Because without song there’d be nothing memorable to say
But God insists upon our being intelligent, or, at the very least, intelligible,
And poetry often is “not that!”
Without inspiration, (taking a spiritual breath), there’d be no God –
But that’s about breathing “in” – not “out” –
Yet, when we’re talking about God, isn’t it always a mix?
Part understanding and part a tapping of the feet.
Isn’t it true that as soon as God comes to mind
Our heart wants to start singing –
Isn’t it also true that as soon as black letters hit white pages
In an attempt to describe God –
A bucket of color gets thrown over the words –
Because God is so wild, alive, and unanticipated.
A newborn baby first opening its eyes to the world
Could not be more surprised
Than a poet sitting down and starting to write anything about God.
We need light for clarity as well as its disinfectant powers
And darkness to grow underneath consciousness.
We need sweetness to lure us to habitual goodness
And sour to teach the necessity of a few bitter lessons.
We need pets while young to teach us about love
So that when we’ve grown up, we won’t fear vulnerability.
We need strong appetites both for learning and life,
Hearts that yearn after greater emotional consciousness,
And minds unafraid of any categories of emptiness.
One day, sitting under my favorite tree,
I hear a song I’ve always yearned to hear –
Starting low and steadily becoming stronger –
One voice – swelling into many –
Suddenly, I hear myself
Singing along with the rest of the world –
Aurally blossoming in a personal/communal joy –
One soul, one world, one God –
Everyone sings their own song
If only they can remember it –
Otherwise, they need to hum along with everyone else.
Potentially, consciousness is as open as sunshine –
But, unfortunately, we rely upon pebble words
To let the light in.
“Pebble” because we’ve lost the ability to “play” with words –
Having replaced them with tensile-strength numbers –
So, now, we find ourselves twice abandoned –
Because the mystic words we traditionally used to enhance subjective reality
Have now been transformed into electronic bits.
In the cities, everything has been speeding up
For fear something might get lost –
But this has resulted in lives passing us by with even greater efficiency.
So, our souls are fading,
What am I saying? – our souls have already gone –
Evidenced by the fact that we no longer pray.
Going fast, going slow –
It really doesn’t matter
If there’s no “there” there.