Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Our Father, Revisited...

[When struck by a storm of insomnia, I often practice what might be called breath controlled prayer or silent using certain songs, poems or standard prayers - anyway, the night before last this came into my mind and I fell asleep. I think it can be set to music]

Our father in the heavens!

We are so ashamed!

Our will's been done
and your kingdom's trashed
on earth as in the sea and skies above.

Soon, there will be no love,
let alone daily bread.

Help our children to forgive us
as we forgive one another.

Protect this land in the evil days to come
and lead us to where we make war no more.

You are the kingdom, the power and the glory
- where else to make amends?

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Mountain Song Revisited

My friend Technobabe frequently comes with cogent comments to my infrequent posts here. Her comment here on Mountain Song:

I like this song. Wanting to put into words things that words cannot say is something I understand. And the part about the useless crutch, truly true. The only thing I would change is the last line, I would say sweetness sorrows bring instead of sorrows sweetness brings.

needs more than the simple thank you as it touches on the insights and visions which are the spring well of these song-poems.

Thank you very much, Techno-babe, for the suggestion - if the line stood alone, your suggestion would likely be the better choice.

However, the line should be seen in context with what comes before, "I want to climb a mountain...", a classical image, in fact, even a method for spiritual work. If there was any doubt, "where a lot of real angels fly" should make it clear. As we know from the popular imagination, angels "sing", that is play harps, praise God and all that sort of thing - so here, God's glory is the "sweetness" of which angels sing for joy with "silver wings" [you might think of a fluttering, tinkling sounds of magical silver bells].

It is an old idea that the angels really don't understand what human being really is all about - heck, this is Satan's problem in Milton's "Paradise Lost" and why he falls from heaven, it can't comprehend why magnificent being like Itself should bow down before soft worms, bags of dirty water the Elohim have brought forth in their creation. It's not surprising that the angels don't understand because they are not sexual beings and cannot grasp how it is that in the reality of things as they are, the physical and spiritual are inseparably intertwined. Therefor, human beings "sing with other wings", that is in love's embrace of the "sorrows [such] sweetness brings".

I don't know how to get closer to what is being said without stepping on it and squishing the life out of it. Let me put it this way, if we don't embrace life, then life is worthless, barren. On the other hand, if we embrace life, we stand there, arms full of rosebuds with the thorns sticking out. All we can do is demand an answer of Eternity - is there anything, was there any meaning to it all?

A pink happy spirit realm in heaven is not enough - it can't answer what all us poor boys and girls have gone through down here below! There must be meaning in this human existence in itself, in these "bloody truths". Job asked the question and the answer was in the whirlwind. Jesus, as historical Christ, lived the question unto the ultimate moment of utter despair and, in Christian terminology the answer is in the mystery of the Resurrection.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Mountain Song

[This song has been hanging out with me for a decade or more, but last night as I had trouble sleeping because of this sharp stabbing pain in my left foot, a new verse appeared, insisting it should be the first verse and and the first should be the last]

If I sang the truth, would you
listen politely.
Or, would you scream and shout
and throw the book at me?

The truth is more than lists of rules
old fools can recite
The truth is like the shining star
that brings day into the night.

I want to sing a song, but
the song cannot be sung
I want to ring a bell, but
the bell cannot be rung

I want to try to put into words
things words cannot say
When you want to do the impossible,
you have to find a way.

The wisdom of the ages will
always be untouched
until the cripple throws away
his useless wooden crutch

That cross I see you wearing is
not the cross you need
The cross you should be bearing is
the cross that makes you bleed

When bankers of illusion try
to modify your soul,
remember when you fled the dead
and wed your self to soul

Remember all those lonely nights
you cried yourself to sleep
Remember all the promises
and the vow you meant to keep!

I want to climb a mountain but
the mountain is so high,
that at the top is where a lot
of real angels fly.

Angels sing with their silver wings
of the joy sweetness brings
Human beings sing with other wings
of the sorrows sweetness brings