Never mind me, I cry!
Pay no attention to this weak shell
Parading about as a man
Strong as Samson and wise as Solomon.
These are beautiful yet empty façades
Dangerous as the tears from a crocodile!
Come close, draw near if you dare,
But beware the teeth behind this mask!
My sympathies are mere imagination
And I have turned deceit into an artform!
I have secured myself in my own little world,
A life nestled safely within
Stage decor and staged decorum;
Appearing nice and wholesome,
Faking decency and protocol,
While all the while I am reading my noble lines
Behind the set.
Oh yes, I would ask for wisdom
Greater even than Bathsheba’s son
(You remember that bath and that rooftop,
Do you not, milady?!)
But here my true colors bleed through!
My faith has been found lacking,
And my intentions absurd!
I want that wisdom not for pure purposes,
But for my own corrupted will to use!
I will bury my lord’s riches in the ground,
Failing to recognize the worthlessness
Of such foolish efforts!
As a squirrel storing nuts for the winter
But never knowing where they went in the spring,
So shall I be with any pearls gained.
Those not lost to the dust will be cast
Before the swine in my own heart.
If “purity of heart is to want one thing”
Then how many things must I want?!
Innumerable as the stars, for such is my purity
Or lack thereof!
Here in my self-imposed exile
And self-inflicted leprosy,
My estrangement from the One and my numbness to His touch
Removes all remnants and relics
Of a former life of Oneness.
I am here alone, just me,
me without You!
In truth, though, I must confess,
To say I am devoid of You
Is to be cognizant of Your motions;
To recognize Your presence without
Is to affirm Your holy un-absence within.
I see the limitless I AM who sits in stillness
Inside this wretched Anything But,
And if I had the ears to hear,
Surely the whisper of the Greater
Would drown out the bellowing of
My graven images and lesser gods.
Pay no attention to this weak shell
Parading about as a man
Strong as Samson and wise as Solomon.
These are beautiful yet empty façades
Dangerous as the tears from a crocodile!
Come close, draw near if you dare,
But beware the teeth behind this mask!
My sympathies are mere imagination
And I have turned deceit into an artform!
I have secured myself in my own little world,
A life nestled safely within
Stage decor and staged decorum;
Appearing nice and wholesome,
Faking decency and protocol,
While all the while I am reading my noble lines
Behind the set.
Oh yes, I would ask for wisdom
Greater even than Bathsheba’s son
(You remember that bath and that rooftop,
Do you not, milady?!)
But here my true colors bleed through!
My faith has been found lacking,
And my intentions absurd!
I want that wisdom not for pure purposes,
But for my own corrupted will to use!
I will bury my lord’s riches in the ground,
Failing to recognize the worthlessness
Of such foolish efforts!
As a squirrel storing nuts for the winter
But never knowing where they went in the spring,
So shall I be with any pearls gained.
Those not lost to the dust will be cast
Before the swine in my own heart.
If “purity of heart is to want one thing”
Then how many things must I want?!
Innumerable as the stars, for such is my purity
Or lack thereof!
Here in my self-imposed exile
And self-inflicted leprosy,
My estrangement from the One and my numbness to His touch
Removes all remnants and relics
Of a former life of Oneness.
I am here alone, just me,
me without You!
In truth, though, I must confess,
To say I am devoid of You
Is to be cognizant of Your motions;
To recognize Your presence without
Is to affirm Your holy un-absence within.
I see the limitless I AM who sits in stillness
Inside this wretched Anything But,
And if I had the ears to hear,
Surely the whisper of the Greater
Would drown out the bellowing of
My graven images and lesser gods.
Quiet now.
