Afternoon Banality

75 Replies

I’ve settled down to write. Fleas are already
in attack, their peppered landing keeping
me alert. I apologize if this fact disturbs you,
like being dressed in the light shift I slept in
might, late aftenoon at 4:00 PM. I could
downplay it by writing about age, retirement,
and other symptoms of life. I could call it
“Housedress” and conjure up my dear
great aunts who wore their stockings
rolled up at their knees and always
welcomed me, beaming with their peace,
and dressed down their old teaching/
church/and shopping clothes with worn
aprons strung around their necks.
My heart lifts, remembering. My soul
takes a quick leap and tumbles into joy, refreshed.  

I’m sorry words get in my way. This writing aims
at elemental things. I’ve been knowing God and gods
as translations of the simple message we’ve conspired
to sanctify: this is all right, in spite of myriad ways
we recognize it’s wrong. Life and all creation self-destruct.
We know this early and we have to trust each moment we’re allowed.   Intelligence requires us to open minds to overload
and crash, like machines we utilize to reclaim
access to the appled world. All right. Amateur
philosopher I am, I consider it my private gem
of creativity, grasping at the purpose of my life.

In a galaxy of fresh, energetic bites
of understanding, gasping like the hungry
tadpoles in our ancient pool, I’m struggling
to breathe, for nourishment, to live.   Is God
invention or a plane of understanding that
we can’t go this alone? What to do
with plaintive cries of joy, the want
to join the source of all we are?
There is a space in consciousness
where we can rest, a mountaintop
ascending past the sun, beyond all stars,
beyond our comprehension, where
we can halt, breathe heavily until
our heartbeats signal that we’re safe.
  
I can almost stop here.
The ache in something I call soul
is telling me that I’m alive, I’m near
my limit, near the summit.
I have so little moisture left,
but tears come to my eyes.
Dear cherished fellows, Hitchhikers in
the Universe, I may sound trite.  

You might conclude I’ve reached
that senile stage, derangement
where, gradually, Heaven makes
impressions on my mind, a drug
induced by too much time,
an early mourning of my span.
You may see me calcified, a marker
of my own attendance. Fine.
I’m here to post my wisdom
like a rigid banner, flag
we pushed into the surface
of the moon. I acquiesce:
I’m in God’s realm. At last
Allah takes me to Zer breast.    

75 thoughts on “Afternoon Banality”

  1. melvasue

    I could call it
    “Housedress” and conjure up my dear
    great aunts who wore their stockings
    rolled up at their knees and always
    welcomed me, beaming with their peace,
    and dressed down their old teaching/
    church/and shopping clothes with worn
    aprons strung around their necks.
    My heart lifts, remembering.

    Enjoy this so much!

    Reply ↓
  2. Rae Cobbs

    Thanks, Melva Sue! This got posted by accident on Harriet’s page. She would be disturbed, I think, if she thought every one would see this as her spiritual simplicity. I love it like I loved stacking colored blocks when I was young. (Rae Cobbs)

    Reply ↓
  31. check this

    Hey there! I could have sworn I’ve been to this site before but after browsing through some of the post I realized it’s new to me. Anyhow, I’m definitely glad I found it and I’ll be book-marking and checking back frequently!

    Reply ↓

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