and smile
warmly
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Are illusions made to be
laughed away?Is the human comedy alsoa divine comedy? Should wenot wail, but share the joke?The children’s party conjurorand the handkerchief, the rabbit,the flock of doves – they’re here, thenthey’re not… we laughat our own disbelief.This illusion that the world is real,and that God does not look us in the faceat every turn, in every detail…
It should be so obvious:
as worthwhile in our life –these, we share with those who’ve gone before..what else more worth the sharing?and share, more closely than we know to seek:those whose ‘loss’ to us we mourn –especially those so recently thought ‘lost’ to us –they are the ones still closest to us:they delight to hear from us, chatting in…
God
from believersor unbelievers(though for different reasons)but just imaginehow He must feelwhen, having createdall the glorious,ludicrous(He has a sense of humour surely)multitude of species,mankind just knocks them off one by one,I mean, just imagine having all those extinct speciesin your Mind,sketches, working models, problems resolved,fine tuning, (er, evolution in later versions?)but no longer there for all…
It’s part of the tourism thing –
into the local church;the flowers at leastmay be friendly; the flower arrangers, busy..you’ve been in churches whichas soon as you gently push the squeaky door,frown on you, their fingersto their lips, and pointto ‘Thou Shalt Not’ where you expected Jesus’ open arms;and to vast cathedrals asking, it seems,an unformulated question of youin their overwhelming magnificenceso…
Noon here in hot summer in this quarter-sphere of stepped stone;
the light so strong that it seems to have bleached away all thought;time is taking a siesta.come sit with me here in this almost deserted amphitheatrewhich has stood for more than two thousand years,only the bees are quietly moving,searching the flowers which grow between these huge blocks of stonewhich someone quarried, someone brought here,someone acted…
There’s a first time
said Godgiving the Wordto start it allthere’s a first timefor everythingI’ve just readyour poemsand I feel so goodthat for the first timeI laughed at Envy,kicked it around the room,laughed some more,kicked it some moreI feel so goodin the cornerthere’s Envy taking the countthanks