Sunday, August 14, 2016

Quest for the House of Creation

At first I rose up
out of the dust of creation,
and I chose
the thrill of temptation
over the love of my creator.
I chose to turn
in the direction of my choice.
To form my own meanings
for my existence.
I chose
to eat the fruit of my desire,
and by choice
I left the house of creation.

It was then,
after the garden of my peace
was a distant memory,
as I watched the struggle
of my offspring,
to find their meaning,
that I directed myself
toward my father's home.
I set off in search of his love
only I'd forgotten who he was.

I looked to the sun
high in the sky,
full of warmth and brightness,
and mistook the caress
of its light
as love.
But when I made my plea
for deepening kinship
the sun vanished into the clouds.
When I asked it to protect me
with its light
it fell victim to the darkness.  

Then I sought the solace of the moon.
The strengthening hope
in my fear of the night.
The gentle spirit above the branches
reaching outward
with silent prayer.
But then one eve
it chose not to appear
and I was frightened by the total darkness.
I prayed for its spirit to return,
but its distance from me
was too great,
my cries were not heard.

Then I bowed down to the wind.
Its fierce energy
frightened me.
Through sacrifice I sought to calm
its fury
and soothe its anger
until it was just a soft whisper
through the trees.
But in its hurry
the gusts of wind blew by me,
heading in its chosen direction.
Leaving me alone in my desert
longing for the relief
of a gentle breeze.

Was in the years that followed
that we carved from bronze,
a calf.
We covered it with a layer of gold
ordaining it in glory.
How we embraced the cold metal
and adored it.
But it gave no response to our existence.
It didn't shield itself from us,
like the sun or moon.
It didn't lead us in a direction
alien to our boundaries,
and we felt no fear or love in its presence.    

Then from among us came men
of sacred scripture.
Who read and studied
the written teachings of their ancestors.
They stood before us
and spoke of a single God,
but they wore the commandments
as a garment on their flesh
not their spirit.
They demanded of each,
who gathered in their great temples,
to bring forth to the world
a goodness.
A goodness their pious example
failed to caress.

During the time
of Pharisaical power 
He came.
The man from Nazareth.
He drew unto himself
fishermen
tax collectors,
the blind,
the lepers,
the harlots.
And He gathered us together
on a hillside.
He spoke of His love for His Father
and the Father's love for Him.
He showed us the path
returning to love.

And He taught us to pray.....,

Our Father....





copyright 2007 - Donald P James Jr

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