Salvation Becoming

So under my coat is a wet, skinny man.  I hide in this disguise to avert curious eyes.  Big and loud and in your grill; frees me to win always.  That is truly losing.  Never being responsible for what is truly wrong in the head at the moment.  

So this mountain of knowledge I thought I possessed has turned out to be a puddle of existence I contaminated with my pitiful understanding and misinterpretation.  That is truly losing.  Never being responsible for that which I do not know; for one can never know it all.



So these women loved, babies raised, brothers bound to me by blood and secrets and love; father resented, mother rejected, (I still love my Granny), I shall pass-on the family reunion, the get-togethers, the church, and the school.  Give me a living room, filled with smoke and half-filled glasses.  Filled with laughter and holy moments and reverent silence for one on the verge of a moment . . . of realization-please, give me people edifying one another in spirit.



So slap happy on the drum while I pontificate!  Interpretively dance to whatever fantastical music you hear.  Lift your voice and heart and mind and make cacophonous songs resonate from our corner of the world.  Use this creativity to make one moment-by-moment mean more than a commercial, or an argument, or silence looming.



There is hope and purpose, but examples of these I cannot display.  Could that be faith?  Praise be!!  I am healed!