exposed

what's this that's bared:

our whitened wall;

our graying shadow;

our fading light?

our window is curtained.

we dare not see.

our history's short:

a thousand years, a day,

the same;

not much, burned upon a disk.

it too will die by fire.

we'll pass un-famous,

unknown,

letters on a crumpled page

a soon discarded paragraph.

whats' read is who we are:

scarred and scared,

our walls left behind.

what's exposed is what matters:

naked

without props

no ifs, ands, or buts.

just one bare-ass among others

paging through excuses

shuffling toward the Light.

here stand our doubts, denials

the sufferings we bought

our injustice, mistakes

our betrayals, our pains.

what's bare is us

un-famous

yet forever known

bare-assed and loved

wanted for Whose we are.

the Unimagined will look for Hope.

the Must Be is Love.

it's the basket that carries God

and that basket is us.

*Our human bodies are shared, rented, or inhabited by being with lives and histories of their own.

-Lawrence E. Sullivan

*...the call to be mature is at the same time a call to run the risk of disorientation, of illness and sickness.

-Lawrence E. Sullivan