boy, i'd like to

boy, i'd like to tear you from your mother's breast

snatch you crying for her soothing chest

whisk you into the forest dark

have you strip at the water's edge

sit naked among the ghosts of night

frighten hell from your trembling bones

that you might question till the breaking day

till the sun crawls upon your nervous back

then talk with you man to man

cov'ring you with strength that wisdom brings

that you might stand tall in the ancestral tree

and learn yourself the masculine strain

through the death your initiation brings

for then you'll live having walked through death

with your  name newborn unlike the rest

returning grown commissioned to live

*Reflections of Jean Sulivan:

  -We don't decide to to doubt; it just happens that way.

  -To tear down the idols that exist outside oneself doesn't mean much.  To destroy idolatry within oneself is far more difficult.

  -In the area of faith it is both vulgar and stupid to try to prove anything.  Fight for truth?  Never. People fight for convictions in place of truth.  Someone who genuinely loves the truth seeks only to let it fill her whole being.

  -Don't try to change people's opinions or convert anybody.  Be what you are and perhaps someone else will be led to become what she is.  Adopt a genuine manner to tell us what moves you, without worrying about the consequences.  That's neither laziness nor amateurism, but a spontaneous self-discipline which has nothing in common with the party line.  It might better be compared with the constant practice of someone who wants to play a tune.