Pages

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Enough

I feel the flow, in and around me, such force.

Something so powerful, so connective, so deep and ancient must be named.

And once named, must have shape, a form - but no shape nor form, nor all of them together encompass enough to define the mystery.

But definition demands form - so human, like me - but more.

Such force must be harnessed, categorized, captured and controlled. Great structures and works built to honor and pacify, hierarchies and rules because rules take away fear, give safety.

And good and evil must be separated, so good can be clung to and evil avoided. But such artificial division only serves to confuse and confound.

And a way must be made, to understand, to capture, to ensure certainty. Maybe the divine wrapped in flesh might be understood, explained.

But the explanations only cause strife and conflict and heartbreak. The need to know, to be right, to win drowns out everything else.

In the fighting, everyone loses. The boxes built to contain only serve to condemn.

So, I say, to hell with the boxes - let me simply step into the flow, let the current carry me where it will, whether I float or drown.

Enough of trying to capture the rapids in a cup, to define the undefinable, to explain the mystery away.

Enough of sin and salvation, heaven and hell.

Enough of rules and power plays.

Enough.

I feel the flow - can you feel it too?

9 comments:

  1. WOW. This is so full of power and energy! Hope it takes you somewhere amazing!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is exquisite. Stunning. Seductive. Powerful. Beautiful. Lyrical. You.

    I feel it, woman! SO good!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Yes, yes, yes! And another "yes!"

    ReplyDelete
  4. This is so ENOUGH! I love this poem - especially this line: "In the fighting, everyone loses. The boxes built to contain only serve to condemn"

    Let's go with the current and see where it takes us!

    ReplyDelete
  5. @Shawna - yes, let's. Glad you are in the river with me.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Renae,
    Strength, conviction, mystery. What I feel when I read this is LOVE. Love. Love...

    ReplyDelete
  7. To hell with the boxes. I'm with you.

    ReplyDelete
  8. This is an excellent poem, Renae. I love it.

    ReplyDelete