Unabsorbed by others…

Absorbed by and into ourselves

self-absorbed Jonah-like

both prophet and whale

Into a self that is more Not than Is

Made so by time stopped and frozen

For Years upon years

Made forever frozen by the dull steady ache

of pain and not-ness

And no-ness

And the rictus grin of

No-grace and no-hope.

And all this time so far from home

From home’s reach and home’s love and warmth

So far from the promise of “I,” “I am”

And “I need not be afraid.”

So far from the promise of this good earth to

Lovingly anchor the soul and

Give our ourselves and our thoughts flesh and blood

And sufficient might.

Leave it to other tribes; other Folk

To lay back and suck on the breast of

Lives untwisted and unskewed and unbent

Not for us the psychic bounty and bonus

That comes from being one with rocks and trees

and the stars overhead…

so that we can say that these

things are are ours and we theirs

Not for us God’s good moods

Rather rats and spider webs and the stale smell

Of fear;

Our home

A house built of unanswered prayers

forged in a furnace of pain

pain coming through the tines of

an angry peasant’s pitchfork or

Through the malediction of a Man of God

Gone astray with hate

or from an equally deadly stream

From unknown places deep within our souls

A messiah must arise…

An existential Messiah

So that all of it,

Rocks, trees, hills, thoughts

of time lost

Of thoughts spoken and unspoken…

Must be as if they were just for us

And when lost time itself comes rushing

Back to us as a downright pogram of

savage and atoning love

And each moment of hell cast into the sea

Then all will be right

And all our dreams will be good.

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