Athens, Georgia
January 5, 2011; revised July 2, 2012
From
the darkness
that
ushers first light
my
tattered faith fights for birth
to
a new day –
a
new day spinning off an unstable axis.
To
a new day, cold
with
calculated rage, honed
by
hardened voices
sharpened
on diamond-edged ideals
clawing
at the heart of power.
To
a new day, hot
with
ill-tempered ignorance
and
tinny pride, thinly trumpeted
by
vuvuzela
pretending
to the sweetness
of
Marsalis, or of angels
with
all the redemptive depth
of
ground bees
swarming
in distress before their phantom fears.
To
a new day so broken
the
blessed redeemer
is
repurposed for vengeance
strapped
to the white warhorse
locked
and loaded
goaded
by a band of furies
playing
in the proud key of certainty.
And
redemption? Earmarked
for
the mighty
while
wrapped in weakness,
the
tender teacher
healing
rabbi
kind-eyed
spirit who would save the world
fades
into ether
excarnated
again
from
the empire of strength
spinning
in the midst of the whirlwind.
This
is the day
it
is always the day
that
whispers blessings from beyond
the
breaking news, beyond
the
tight smile and firm jaw, beyond
the
clenched heart –
love
lurks in robust fragility.
Confronting
ignorance
it
is extinguished in darkness
only
to rise
as
the midsummer sun
to
illuminate hollows enshrouded by night.
Confronting
hatred
it
is crushed underfoot
only
to rise
through
the soles of the jackboot
to
soften the callus encrusting the heart.
Ideas
fight for incarnation
through
the living media
of
our messy lives.
And
we are finally redeemed
but
not by knowledge
nor
by theology, clever
though they be
but
by the intangible ideals
incubating
in the heartland
of our emerging soul.
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