September 28, 2011

• A meditation on sex

  Today I saw a girl and wanted her body

  But if she would have let me, I would have walked away
  
  So I stopped in my tracks and thought,
  
  what sort of body is this?
  
  It is a world full of girls, but I would only
  
  kneel before one of them.
  
  A pure love, I don’t know what it is
  
  I just know I feel like
  
  it’s found in snow,
  
  on clear fall days,
  
  when I’m on a rooftop
  
  looking at the silhouettes of myself and a girl
  
  in a thousand window frames

  and I realize that I filled my life with nothing.

  But if I know pure Love,

  and have been given something that makes me feel,
  
  I find that I can do nothing else

  than see in them what he sees in me,

  and that that will take a lifetime.

  I pray to my body, please, do not be downspirited

  but be lifted up, know that you are here and alive

  that you move and live and exist

  and that you can love so many people in so many ways.

  and if the Lord who made you so allows,

  he will grant the time and place to do his bidding

  for her and her joy.

  weep, but live, for each day has its own light

  and a thousand steps in the future, you will

  feel the same sorrow, but these lands

  are not for your understanding,

  but for your chastening. 

  listen and love in invisible motions
  
  for you were not here at the first,
  
  but have been allowed

  just a short time,

  and you are not entitled to everything you see.

  find the fire in people and build it

  and you will find yourself similarly alive.

  nothing can stop those whose master is hope.

  but the living dead, they have snubbed that candle

  worlds ago, and you must not relate to it.

  if you desire it, you will find hope, and hope

  above all you will ever see,

  will not disappoint you. 

  if you believe you were made
  
  to love only one other,

  you believe in a very small world. 

  you are allowed to be here,

  and if you did not say thank you today,

  you have done at least one wrong thus far.

  this world is not our own.

  and you will leave, and what you leave was

  what you stamped on it, and whispered,

  so whisper that you will love what you can,

  and that you will wait for the rest.

  praise the Lord, he has made the rest.

  praise his Being, he has let us be here.

  praise his Name, these friends are his creation.

  i do not want to leave it, but i suppose i will have to try.

  but before and during and after then, i can only

  kneel and whisper and cry,

  ‘i thank you, Lord of all being, for this life is not my own.’

  • 12:37 am
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