Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Brush with Divinity


In this dirty dark bar room

with the music too loud

my ears begin to ring

as a prelude to tomorrow

and the damage inflicted

by modern technology.

 

The tall guy I came with

has too much to drink,

knocking back shots 

at an alarming rate,

and swaying on his feet

he reaches for the door jamb

to steady himself. 

He bumps someone gently

in reaching for support

and since he's not a mean drunk

he apologizes profusely:  

“Oh shorry,” he says,

“Sho shorry.”

 

A new band takes the stage

the one he's raved about

the one we are here for

and the husky voiced woman 

voluptuous and pale

tattooed and wild haired

sexy in that grungy way

without really trying to be

sings and plays guitar

and sways to the beat

her eyes firmly closed

as if she is alone in the room

with her most intimate thoughts

but doesn't really give a shit

if she's not.

 

And the men in the room

are clearly drawn to her

invisibly strain toward her

wanting her, I swear

to notice them

come out of her trance

make contact with them

acknowledge they exist

see their love for her

see their lust for her

they don't really care which.

 

I tell you in all honesty

without any embarrassment

that I stand in that bar room

in that dirty dark bar room

and nearly weep in the darkness

because  ~ I know it's crazy

I really do know this ~

but their longing 

it seems to me

is that great human longing

to be one with the Other

the longing for Spirit

the longing for connection

the longing, I just know it

to be one with God.  

  

But the music plays on

and her eyes stay closed

and the bar room shuts down

and the people wander home

and none of them know

they don’t really know

how close they just came

to the Divine.

  

August 10, 2009


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