Possibility (A Poem About Divine Mystery)

Possibility (A Poem About Divine Mystery) April 11, 2020

Holy Saturday is
The day when there are no
Answers, only waiting
In the womb of God.

So I’m wondering
Whether you’ve already
Written the story I’m acting out
Because I’d love to know

That all the shunning,
And the missed connections,
The running away from me
In the supermarket,

The almost crashing your bike
Into pedestrians because that
Preacher is playing Jedi Mind
Tricks again with his free donut holes,

The coming the first week
But realizing you’re too popular
To hang out at a ministry
With this kind of vibe,

The liking everyone else’s posts
Except for the pastor’s
Because he’s weird and full
Of himself and easily hurt,

The word “Read” on several
Dozen different message
Threads in which friendship
Has been suspended till further notice,

The we can’t kiss or even touch right now
Because your health is so fragile
And if we both go down to this
Who will raise our children?

I want to know that these bruises
And slights and happenstances
Of an age without connection
Somehow had a purpose:

To make me a volcano
So I could spit words
At the speed of light
Like an intergalactic laser

Taking out demons on
Distant planets;
I want there to be a sword
In a stone that I pull out

And then I’m king,
But of course everyone
Wants a destiny if it involves
Being king; what if my destiny

Is to agonize in obscurity
Because you wanted that
Kind of movie to watch
Since you were bored with

The Disney endings?
I’m not sure which terrifies
Me more: a mediocre destiny
Or the truth that you have no

Destiny for me because the
Story isn’t written yet.
That’s what my new teacher
Told me when I asked about

The void. I wanted to know
Why they call it emptiness
Instead of joy or love
And he said because every

Moment is fresh with possibility;
The you that you receive
Can violate the story
And suddenly shave and wear

Lipstick and change costumes
Because you are the universe;
You are the breath that is shared
By every sentient being;

You are the electrical pulse
That has always ohmed long
Before Michael Faraday made
His first motor that became a whole

Matrix of wires and signals
People think they’re supposed
To plug into because unrecorded
Experience no longer counts.

You can turn off your screens
And throw them away forever
And simply breathe and water
Flowers if that’s the energy

You want to inhabit;
Why do you want to be famous?
My student asked me without
Judgment, and I had no answer.

And I dreamed of a world
Where friends actually read
Poems to each other
As a daily practice

And no one is famous
And number of shares by strangers
Is not the metric of whether
Your words have meaning.

Possibility — what a strange
Bedeviling void you are?
Is it really permitted for me
To smash every script?

What if we invented a new
Way of being human right
Now without any reason
Or valid authority?

What if all the prophecies
I grabbed in order to
Secure my footing
Have served their purpose,

Just like my cowboy
Hat in tenth grade
And my Jimi Hendrix shirt
My junior year —

All of them stepping stones out
Into water that perhaps
I can impossibly walk now,
Not needing to make sure

That everybody knows it’s Jesus
Not me making it happen,
Not needing to defend myself with
Chapter verse citations?

What if the second coming
Is every puddle
That reflects the moon?
What if it doesn’t need a name?

I am Starchild because
I get to name myself and
I am the composite of many stars’
Ashes God-breathed.

All I want is a sangha
Where I am held and treasured
Even if I don’t need
To be held and treasured.

It’s delightful to be love
Without expectation,
Script, costume, destiny,
Or validity of any kind.

Possibility — I am no
Longer frightened by you;
I understand now why the true
Rastas remain in the hills;

They have gardens that are
Better than any stage
With billions of adoring galaxies;
Because one flower truly loved

Is worth more than a trillion likes
Of strangers shadow boxing
With celebrity dolls;
I don’t have to say someday anymore:

My people smile at me from the wall
Of icons I built and they’re letting
Me know I’m ready to step into
The void to become possibility.

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