strangeme
The world is poor
Her fortune is buried in the sky
And all her treasure maps
Are of the earth
Authentic Messiahs cannot cease
Their meditations on vast human hurt
To heed the pain of nails
Damnation, senseless
Killers! Oh, for a fee
Cassandra, if the worlds on fire
We must save a cup of ashes for
The seed.
Hell’s logic consists in
Preventing murdering by
Murdering the murderer
Heavens logic greets every
Murderer with grace
Dying when the time comes
With beatific face.
A God too large to walk in
Human shoes
Has outgrown hope of
Human use
And heavy skeptics weighted down
With doubt
Can never rise to
God’s about
A humanist in chocking sea
Called for help presently
Received in full intensity
“You must swim, if you would be.
Self –reliance makes one free
“That’s nice”
He said and floated easily
And died I misery
Evil finds a ready home
Where beauty is despised
And ugliness enthroned
Prayer is most real when
we refuse to say “Amen”
We most love heaven when
We will not end our
Conversations quickly
Who found their “Amens
Close at hand
Come to the court of God
Having eyes unwashed with
Dreams and you will see
Nothing
Death is the confirmation of
The believer’s creed
For the skeptics it is discovery
Immense and too late
The first sound sleep we get
On earth
We must be roused on realm away.
Light is never given
While we fear the dark.
Materiality a blessing all its own.
Spirit -Demons play in fire
Hoping for cremation.
In terror of their immortality
They envy dying humanity
Rudies addittion to the poem
whispered in my ear by an angelic friend:
But the skeptics' skepticism will end
A joyous fate offered in its place
Much grander than the believer's hate
A Loving God says enter in
All your love for all you loved
Every drop of kindness too
And all that ever makes it thru yon gate
From the Finale