prayer for judgment

outstretched –
without restriction –
a hand.

offered –
free –
unqualified –
open arms of compassion.
simple things all too often taken for granted.

confined to rooms of routine,
we lose the passion for living –
commit ourselves to merely,
life.

for some of us,
the process suffocating.
disallowed to authenticate our disillusion,
we pursue alternative methods of engagement.
once unrestrained,
the freedom from mundane becomes our drug of choice.

and you.
standing defiant in your Chasuble of condemnation –
conspire to chastise –
categorize our behavior within paradigms of dissension.
i suppose,
if measured by standards of secular jurisprudence,
our mercurial behavior could be considered deviant –
perhaps radical.
however,
if allowed,
prayer for judgment?

how can you stand in posture of authority over courts of supposition?
surely you do not feel justified to gather stones!
how can you entertain acts of accommodation with conviction –
pass sentence for crimes you merely postulate as accused –
ill-informed,
bearing witness to effect,

yet no affiliation with the cause…

who will fill the holes

voids –

spaces not filled –

empty – holes …

 

a glance –

eyes searching for confirmation,

not returned.

 

a hand – offered –

friendship –

given –

no takers…

 

sentences without punctuation.

and you –

the question i am not allowed to answer!

accoutrements of irrelevance

 

indiscriminate –

obtrusive –

the frustration of a reality unintended.

what purpose creation –

ownership of concept –

if allowed to be flawed?

 

to try to understand the purpose of life without accepting the eventuality of death is frivolous – fictitious.

what would define hope if everything imagined was real –

tangible?

what reason would there be for faith in a world lacking supposition?

 

so often we raise our voice –

scream callous denigration –

to anyone that deviates from our predetermined paradigms of socially accepted behavior.

and if our articulation of doctrine fails to assuage the masses,

we reach into our arsenal of jurisprudence –

recite with zealous intent retributions from apocrypha of self-assumed conviction…

 

in the end –

judgment.

 

regardless action without faith –

faith without action –

submission to the author of creation stands paramount to absolution.

 

and yet i see you standing there –

self-imposed elevation –

placing accoutrements of irrelevance on the scale of (un)belief…

on passing through rooms of displeasure…

i read –
and was forever changed.

isn’t that the beauty of this experience called life?
the ownership of interpretation?
to understand that which moves me,
may cause no similar response in you.

 

each time i enter this room of share,
i say a prayer before touching the keys.
to imply the words are mine would be considered the most elevated evidence of tyranny.
most often,
i rather hold close the thoughts –
contain them within the rooms of my displeasure.
however, the holder of the latch will not comply –
and all at once –
escape…

 

and so it goes.
these words i borrow;
thoughts entertained on visits from countries i have yet to travel –
journeys un-begun.

 

tonight i stand upon the balcony of suppose –
gaze longingly upon the setting sun –
surrender without reluctance my care.
what if i wake tomorrow?
what matter will it make –
these thoughts?

 

perhaps upon passing,
you will linger.
just long enough to take breath.
and as quickly as your exhale,
the moment gone.

 

apropos of disengage,
your read,
will fall along the side –
random highway –
unnamed –
so all-too-soon,
forgotten…

to sit in audience to – know.

obstinate, 

don’t you think, 

for you to stand outside the door to this dark room, 

toss randomly –

like wooden matches flicked –

your insinuations?

ludicrous, 

to presume yourself companion to my indifference.

you do not bare the scars of my assumed indiscretion. 

and nowhere in the book of you

is there evidence to support incidence of (misconstrued) self-deprecation. 

if not for lack of care,

i would invest more time into a study of your contradiction.

but knowing at the end of the day,

the conviction you suggest is nothing more than a mask your insensitivity holds residence behind.

careless of you –

to suppose.

when invitation was given without obligation to sit in audience to know.

this truth –

if we can pass by – on the street – our brother without a coat,

standing in the rain.

if we can ignore – sitting all alone –

our sister giving in to demons,

resistance gone.

 
if we can close our eyes at night –

recite prayers inclined to elevate our us,

and yet recuse ourselves from ownership of the sin of indifference,

what merit is there in our testimony?

how can we utter allegiance to this God we’ve never seen,

yet disallow admittance of even the least of these into our sanctuary?

 
voices,

we have.

and yet we choose silence.

all the while –

on bended knee –

assuming blessing we simply have not earned…

  on a visit to the shore…

 sometimes i visit the shore,

 where my will crashes into my was.

 i  suppose the possibility exists that you just don’t understand that concept, 

 or perhaps haven’t found desire to travel to that particular destination.

 with the same amount of abandon you choose to deflect; i crave.

 the anticipation more impacting than any supposed drug of choice.

 

 i watch your eyes as i speak to my conviction. pay close attention to the subtlety of your distance.

 i wonder how it feels to understand boundaries.

 i desperately try to wrap my head around the acceptability of is; 

 my insatiable; never satisfied –

 always picking at the scab of could have been –

 often, drowning in the sea of if…

 

today i stood – knee deep in the waves – gazing into the setting sun. 

i imagined the sound – unavoidable hiss, as it kissed the relentless sea. 

in that moment – i understood peace.

 

today i, stood. 

and as the waves pounded against my defense, 

i felt the burden of can’t slip away.

I will admit, in that instant, a shiver of fear found refuge;

attached itself to the sinking buoy of doubt. 

remarkable – 

however –

the deep;

accepting the refuse of regret – returning the surface, still.

 

today, i stood.

and instead of looking away – 

ashamed of my suppose –

i gazed with wonder past the sea of refrain,

reached out,

unafraid –

embraced the very essence of can.

 


today i visited the shore,

and found,

me…

stars of cherished was

some days –

if possible –

our only desire –

collect the pieces of could-have-been –

place them in a box.

and if –

by chance –

we find one day a way to turn them into can,

the effort will be more than wasted time –

merely moment of repose as we travel further along our journey.

 

once again the day winds down –

reminds us of our world forever turning –

and in that moment when light escapes the sky of night –

we marvel in awe at the dissipating fragments –

exhibited so poignantly –

like millions of memories held captive –

stars of cherished was –

surreptitiously etched onto the canvas of our forever…

 a box of after-while

 …today –

you passed me on the street.

for a moment our eyes met.

i formed a smile, greeted you.

you turned your head and walked away.

 

as i continued along my journey,

i debated with myself – what did i do?

what impression did i give that warranted indifference?

confused.

uncertain.

i placed the moment in my box of “after-while” –

consideration for another day.

 

today i messaged you.

excited to share a “guess-what?”.

busy,

you promised conversation some other time –

another day.

perhaps i read more into your dismissal than i should.

just maybe,

i held on too long to my expectation of your when –

misconstrued your (un)intention.

 

today –

i waited for you.

anticipated the familiar comfort of your voice.

impatiently counted the minutes until your arrival.

rehearsed with eager enthusiasm my words expressing joy at your return.

but today,

you did not –

 

return.

 

and standing here,

commiserating with just myself,

i understood the sadness of alone –

the deafening roar of silence –

the numbing pain –

of your most callous – inconsideration…

all the precious things…

…i carefully collected all my precious things –

memories that catered to a status of elevation –

pieces of someones life that fell onto the path of my indiscretion.

all the tangible segments of seasons past.

and as i carried my box of was out of the room of my current situation,

i realized how unnecessary the majority of things really were.

 

so much emotion.

so much time.

so much care.

accouterments of compassion and unappreciated concern filed away.

useless as friendship undesired.

 

what do you find holds value at the end of your day?

what thoughts open doors of peaceful reflection as you enter your resource of sleep?

is there ever incidence of regret?

investment into unappreciated accommodation?

commiseration without even essence of reciprocated conviction?

 

and when you take inventory of all that matters,

are the scales skewed toward misappropriated solidarity?

 

i suppose you could insist the situation held value.

without pain there can be little to comprehend of its absence.

and without commissioners of insincerity,

how can one ever fully appreciate the honor –

the blessing –

of companion…