Each year, a few more people attend my blog
So that, suddenly, it starts filling up
And looks like I’m getting noticed.
Then, one day, everyone goes away –
Was it something I said?
This blog is whittling away my natural optimism –
Coming and going – chips flying.
My wife usually remembers to support me –
But one day I made a mistake in repeating an earlier blog –
How could she not notice?
Yet no one has that kind of memory.
I don’t sign the blog with my individual name
Because that’s unimportant –
Instead, I’m writing little notes to God
Who, I hope, appreciates the effort.
Writing, for me, is like being underwater
Then, suddenly surfacing –
Waiting for a bit, and then going back down,
Hoping to reach ecstasy before drowning –
Hoping it might be the same thing –
Drowning in God while dying in me.
To lose everything might provide total freedom
But it doesn’t usually happen that way
Since a person can only lose one piece of themselves at a time.
Writing is freedom on a blank sheet
Without even a dot –
This sheet appears as empty as God
Who’s been busily filling everything in.
Love is like leaving a window open
So that, suddenly, if a bird flies in –
It’s the symbol of your heart returning home.
I keep tearing off pieces of myself
And tossing them out into the dark –
Pretty soon the night will be all lit up with me –
After a certain age, sex and gender start floating off –
What’s left is much greater freedom –
It’s what you’ll see when you get close enough to look directly at God
While, later in life, you start filling up with so much love
That you can’t hold onto anything else.
God is a surprise
Because you never see God coming –
Just don’t piss in your panties
When it happens.