The clenched fist,

A snapped the belt on the stairs, is followed by

“Where are you?”

“Come here now” calls of yesteryear,

Haunting long distant memories.

The terror has turned to sadness,

For parents unable to cope,

Drinking anger and the excess fuel of addition,

In equal quantities,

Until the escape is made, or a deed is done.

Now, years later,

I unclench my fist,

Releasing the turmoil of bruises,

Hidden from others,

In my own gut of hate.

The stinking heap of misunderstood acts,

Falls away, not like it never happened,

But replaced with real love,

And the wisdom of knowing,

I AM not built this way.

And God had never left my side.

She’s my mother, She is Mary,

She’s my lover, She is Venus,

She’s my wisdom, She is Sophia,

She is Life,

She is Eve.

She is woman.

Sand squishes through my toes,

Washed again clean by the seventh wave.

Clearing my mind of irrelevant thoughts ….

And connecting me with You.

Sometimes silence seems the answer.

Where I wanted something louder,

More tangible,

Like a movement, recognizable,

To me, a selfish human.

But answers are not always the next chapter,

Rather a continuing journey towards Him.

It’s OK to be gay,

It’s OK to be mad when someone wrongs you,

It’s OK to love someone, even when they don’t love you back.

It’s OK to see me for what I am,

It’s OK to be me,

It’s OK to want to kiss and hold me tenderly,

Even when I don’t deserve it.

It’s OK.

Converging like a photograph I thought was good when taken,

We cannot find this expected place in the world. Now.

Observed as something to be holy,

Our eyes see it but we cannot record it.

The pixels don’t show its glory,

Just two dimensions,

When four were present.

Looking at a reminder, now disappointed.

But then others, which seemed bland,

Now excite my senses,

Revealing what is needed,

And showing me where I should be going.

Or where I’ve been.

At last, a glimpse is here,

This slight separation,

Between heaven and earth,

As God shines on this holy place.

For me to receive the photograph of His holiness.

So suddenly, I discover all places are holy.

Time and events rush and halt at the Stop sign of today.

Waiting for me to notice the traffic

Moving around me.

 

All those events are stopped in the now

Behind me.

Waiting for me to notice and understand them better.

All of people I have met are suddenly at the door,

Not crowded,

Just patiently waiting their turn,

Not judging,

Just seem pleased to have met me.

I wonder if I did what God expected of me

When I met them,

Greeted and talked,

Provided counsel or peace to their life.

Or upset them in some way.

I wonder.

Each event, the pouring of a coffee in Mundelein,

The nurse’s soothing touch on my father’s arm,

The first “I love you” heard,

Passing a driving test,

All merge into one.

There is no remembrance,

Just a return to the earlier part of the day,

Unseparated from now,

United by God,

Per His original design.

As angels, the spirit and soul are now free

Of Time and Space,

Limitless, Eternal.

So is now the traffic jam of my mind,

Cluttered with beauty and events.

No longer separated.

Again, this person is hitting all the buttons,

Not just perfectly today,

But inciting others,

To insurrection, or worse still.

Encouraging others to belittle me.

Keep the punishment medicine out of reach of children,

Whatever their age.

Rather replenish my Peace and Understanding.