concession –

requested.

request –

denied.

what purpose,

castles built on sand?

regardless the intricacy of presentation –

in spite of the deliberation to process of design –

there is no security in the mercurial composition of the foundation.

so too relationships.

temporary collaboration to accommodate (ulterior) motivation.

and we –

us –

so inclined to facilitate application of agenda;

desperate for occurrence of camaraderie –

that we look with eyes that discriminate;

touch with hands that simply choose not to feel.

what then of feelings left unattached?

when connection is lost,

what becomes of unopened gifts of compassion?

i understand reluctance to acceptance.

i commiserate with feelings of rejection.

i even sympathize with opposition to intentional demeanor of indifference.

what i cannot own,

however –

mannerisms of predetermined manipulation.

hands outstretched –

withdrawn;

turned oh so quickly into fists.

and from hearts unfilled with good intention,

transparent presentation of (factitious) desired compatibility –

masking calculated and cleverly concealed agenda of incorrigible acts of fratricide…

we say –

actually insist.

throw suppositions of know into arenas of disallowed.

our words –

intended bandage for wounds suffered without reproach,

from hands presented as gesture of Christian accommodation.

and while we stand safe –

conveniently clear of any ricochet of insinuation –

the animosity we preach to disallow collects in puddles –

swallows our hope –

quick as ripples of faith on a placid sea of indifference.

what then?

when winds of chaos blow and there is no refuge from the storm?

while liturgies can be heard above the roar of the waves –

still we shiver in the cold –

clinging to the rope of inability –

drifting without option of release in our ocean of discontent.

while there –

just beyond the breakers –

calm,

wave-less sea.

peace we can only imagine –

as we’re dashed without mercy on the shore of doubt –

broken like shells –

empty of all but echoes of prayers –

unanswered –

inconspicuously –

unheard…

un-compromised –

no one listening.

irrelevant – the need to be heard.

sometimes we just cannot contain the emotion –

corral the words back to their silent place –

deep inside.

and so we sing…

sometimes –

the song –

becomes our anthem.

rebellion shouted from lungs trapped in a shell of perceived should-have-been –

could-have-been.

the escape becomes our escape.

the release –

our freedom –

sometimes…

and then –

sometimes –

we no longer hear the music –

and there –

facing the silence –

when we feel we’ve nothing left to say.

before we bow –

final curtain call –

we close our eyes –

and sometimes we just – pray…

caught apprehensively cowering beneath the weight of mistrust.

how can it be we believe in what we cannot see,

yet question intentions of those positioned to hold our hands?

oh to find exit from this life without the consequence of death.

to move from sharing shadows with our pain,

to standing UN-encumbered in the sun!

today i pause –

take refuge from my should.

today –

i pause –

weary traveler longing for the solace of home.

today i –

pause –

just long enough to catch my breath –

and as i close my eyes,

i dream of life beyond the fringe of discontent.

sorrow –

we entertain.

unaware we’ve closed the door to companion of contentment,

honored reservation with insecure –

and from this room,

no promenade of prohibition.

bound we remain,

by chains of (self-perceived) incorrigible inadequacy…

we speak to the disenchanted.

stand on our soapboxes of pious indignation –

lash out at the arena’s of unconcerned –

wear watercolor hearts on our sleeves.

in front of crowds gathered to deter allegiance –

we throw arrows of solidarity –

our arsenal of antagonism unending.

words of condemnation; we choose.

yet fail to dislodge thumbs of impudence from holes in dams of manufactured religion.

religion.

all inclusive blanket of suppose.

folded up neatly and placed high on shelves of available.

easily out of reach –

out of sight.

we speak –

but never seem to question the acceptance of those that hear.

irrelevant –

consensual commiseration.

in place of conviction –

we exhibit masks of implied.

utter memorized oracles of divine affiliation.

all the while –

completely unaware of the absence of acceptance to our invitations of believe…

would it make a difference,

while sitting there, in your chair of comfortable indifference,

if suddenly there appeared –

writing on the wall?

would the message make its way past the breakers of your reluctance?

storm the beach of your indecision?

overcome your fortress of doesn’t matter?

how, exactly, would you reconcile emotions considered martyrs for pursuit of religion?

you say you’ve found the way –

the truth –

the life –

and yet within the walls of your strong tower,

no out-stretched arms –

no embrace of compassion.

ironic,

don’t you think?

invitations sent –

celebration of solidarity –

but communion,

not realized?

perhaps more apropos of conviction –

application of supposed intent.

so much more convincing,

don’t you agree?

monologues extolling the virtues of monotheism,

rather than charades and door prize exhibitions of implied Christianity…

my feelings –

alien to you as much as – secure is to timid,

shatter like shards of glass against your narcissistic walls…

how awesome,

it must be –

being  you;

how – required!

pompous as an apostrophe –

owning possession,

and the power to unite –

yet completely – unaffected!

and while you dangle effortless,

unencumbered –

I remain tied to the weight of my own culpability.

necessary,

you are –

more than any imagined ownership.

for without you,

meaning is lost;

and I become irrelevant as a useless preposition –

alone  –  without the companion of my most reluctant ,

yet oh so necessary –

object…

  and then those days roll in like Summer storms. 

thunder so loud, 

yet welcome distraction from the silence of all alone.

and rain –

heavy as black in a midnight sky.

it seems,

in those moments of oppression, 

there is no hope.

what purpose faith in a faceless god?

surely there is no recompense earned merely from ritual of believe.

peace –

you proclaim.

comfort from the pain. 

but somehow – 

when –

remains unknown.

and as you kneel to offer prayer for salvation, 

voices whisper eulogies to care. 

in those days, 

when life becomes just too much to bear,

you realize how it feels –

becoming undone. 

what then? 

if compassion serves purpose – 

glue to mend the broken – 

and the cupboard bare, 

do the pieces of promise just get swept away? 

sometimes, 

no matter our intention,

we end up unassigned –

unnecessary as the refuse of was,

thrown with deliberation,

into  the insignificance of – not...