Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Spiritual Cellphone on Vibrate

It's the end of another day,
And I haven't made my fortune,
I haven't invented the perfect machine
Found the safe one shot antiviral,
Come and gone to another galaxy,
Communicated with the dead in heaven.

I haven't been called upon by God,
Or if I was, I wasn't listening.
Not really, my spiritual cell phone on vibrate..
I've not found the cure for cancer,
Though I wasn't particularly looking.
I've certainly not cured insaniety, given the extent of world politics.
If I make a dint, it's like a dishwasher, without no job security,
In a 24 hour popular fast food place,
At the hub of the universe, ,offering porcelain rather than paper,.
To give the appearances of home cooked food to packaged alternatives.
,
I'm done in with waiting.  Godot is getting old
In the slang  jazz era expression..
Hoping for  rapture in lieu of second coming,
Beam me up, Scotty, there's no intelligent life here.
Neither science or religion will save me from myself

We are all painful in our solitude.
Praying or plotting, reviving or conniving.
This moment is sacred and miraculous, enhanced with love.
We are not accidental humankind but creation..
We may still hoard shiny things and seek security in large powerful buildings and beaurocracies..
There are nuclear bombs, television, and internet.
Romance  promised something more than sentimentality.
We all love kids as future in hope they'll make up for our failure..

I'm hanging in there
On call.
On call for God's invitation to do something
To be more than I am.
More than ordinary, more than  mundane,
Special in a very common sort of way.
Like any child
Like a child of God..A playful God.

I am only asking  that I be ready for my life to light up
As I praise the Lord
Singing songs of deliverance,  halleluja and remembrance.
But I'm  waiting, somewhat bored and fat with ennui
Because God doesn't come on my time
As I pay lip service to Thy Will Be done, Not my will.
I am bored with Martha and distant from Mary
Waiting sleep to dream a new day
I'll soil less and garden more.









But now to dream.  Maybe tomorrow if only  I can keep my lamp lit.

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