Friday, April 17, 2015

if i could i'd hold you
and keep holding you
holding you
cause i'm damn scared
and need some holding too

and i would drop large tears
to drown hatred in the land
and water flowers somewhere
heartily in a heart somewhere
yours and mine
and anyone who'd be ground
for some new spree

for crazies rule the world
and they curse the ground
dropping bombs to contain a bomb
produce terrors
to contain a terror
while ev'ry word they speak
cause dictionaries to flee
for truth has found no home
even there
cause like lies told cent'ries over time
this time's not different from the past;
slippery words pass through filth
placed upon tables as milk 
stinking in each drink
stop me from walking to their pad

remind me again and again
what's human
what's Christian
ways to forgive
and own my failures
while nurturing my weakened faith
let me share slivers of love
when slivers are all i have

hold me
that i may hold you
for what do we have to give
but hugs to each other
for this is a time of madness
in the grip of the crazies
but we will live
though death falls about us
and madness seems to reign
cause God's full of laughter



*Thoughts of Theodore L. Prescott:

-So much striving, but at the end of the day, we are still, as Walker Percy wisely observed, struck with ourselves - and I might add, stuck with our particular gifts, and the weight of history.

-It seems that we live by moving, yet we know that not all movement amounts to living.  So we want to engage in purposeful movement, movement that really gets us somewhere.  But there are problems built into the idea of getting somewhere, both in art and faith. It is very difficult to know where it is we want to go, or how it is that we get there.

-...our faith tells us that all ends are proximate, and even death - that seeming fearsome finality - is another passage in the borderlands.

-Perhaps hell is an unending futile movement in the same place, and heaven is finding peace and rest as we move toward and in Him who was, and is, and is to come.

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