Raised in bitterness and shame
Always seeking sweetness
though it had no name
the unknown quality of it,
Something the baby heart remembered from before.
Too little to need religion in that time of no teaching,
But still here with the will to tell the difference between love
and no love....
Somewhere along the way, I lost the compass -
confusing fear with familiarity,
taking meanness for humor,
being stirred in response to danger
finding serpents when I needed a fish.
The muffled voice of God makes real efforts to cut through my misdirected longing.
We are aliens here, amid rules of conduct and appropriate goals.
Trying on one smiling face after another
each burning skin
but to fit in
somewhere,
to be allowed to sit at the fire and have a story heard
the naked self must be concealed.
It doesn't take long, though, before the shield
becomes too leaden. too hot,
too cold,
too broken -
the bits blown about by a rising wind.
If I could breathe in that wind
and informed by it, take what I have learned,
and heal all the suffering and bloody masked faces?
If we,
If I
could be free enough to dance beneath the Moon
knowing to the bone
The Victory Way
