Saturday, January 11, 2014

Loose talk

Loose talk

I drift through the loose talk ...
of liberation, realization,

seven planes, the imminent
golden age of the new humanity.

Eternally benevolent, (so the prayer goes)
God is.  Eternity's a long time.

Surely His benevolence
gets stretched mighty thin.

Cresting the hill, I view the next
lonely stretch of highway.

Whoever makes it
to those distant mountains

won't be me.  I don't know who
he will be but I wish him well.

It takes a blind, penetrating sorrow
to hope for more - in the long view -

from our Creator than His ultimate,
unconcerned benevolence; the One

Who created this intricate, unfathomable,
ever-unfolding, tear-and-blood-soaked game.

O child of God, a glint in the current's flow;
a spark from the blacksmith's hammer.


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