For Charlottesville

There was a huge white supremacist march in Charlottesville, VA today. Counter protesters showed up, and someone drove a car into them. At least one of them is dead, and at least 19 are injured. The governor has declared a state of emergency.

Sorrowful Heart, 2017

Sorrowful Heart, 2017

These are the only words that feel appropriate right now: “The Mother of God stands weeping beneath the Cross…. She sheds many tears as she gazes on the face of her tortured Son. With devout mouth she kisses the red wounds of Jesus; with both arms she clasps His shoulders and sides.”

This is from part of a poem entitled The Sorrows of the Virgin which appeared in the book, The Imitation of Mary, by Thomas a Kempis.

Reunion

The stars are unreachable to youOcean of Love
but I can see them in you
feel the light like the warmth of a beating heart
Wherever I look, it is there
and in the looking, it is there too
in the very breath we breath
and in the breathing

The continuity that strings your past selves
present selves, future selves
the reconciliation of all possible selves
Known are the things you would hide from yourself
This is the goal at the end of your Quest
but it is here now in your seeking
There is no point of disconnect

If my words bring a tear to the corner of your eye
and a shiver to your breathing
then you already have the key that unlocked it all
but if I sound as a broken cymbal
or these words only make you laugh
then this key won’t work for you
or you don’t know how to use it yet

There is a kind of gravity that draws you
like a mother calling her child home
She calls the young and old, rich and poor
to the door of destiny
Humiliation, loss, physical danger
These are her words spoken out of compassion
Undoing all that you areLotus Dreaming

so that you can Become
Fight against it if you like
Cling to dissolving things
Deny your own transience
even to the moment of death
In the end we will awaken together
A void that dreamt of stars

Poem about Ariadne

What Was In Your Heart

What was in your heart, Ariadne of Knossos
When you led Theseus to the sacrificial bull that day
Did you wish to go deep in yourself
To kill the monster within
To kill the shame, the rage, the ravenous shadows
The curse that afflicted your innocent name
When you gave the string to Theseus
Was it your dignity you wished to recover — with a lifeline
To wear the name of Theseus the hero
Instead of Mistress of the Labyrinth
Sacred Priestess of a monster
Who eats children and haunts his family
You sacrificed your brother to save the children of Athens
No easy solution I’m sure. (Some of our best monsters are family)
Your noble deed should have been rewarded, your name praised
But you can never really kill monsters
They come back in other forms. They wear the mask of a hero
Who tells us we can murder our bad parts
And we don’t see that they — we — are the monsters
What was in your heart, Ariadne
When you stood on the cliff at Naxos
Did you wish to erase your past, erase your shame
Kill the monster at last by killing yourself
And when Dionysus suddenly appeared
Covered in skins and stinking of wine, what was in your heart then
Did you recognize him right away as another bull
Another ‘monster’ who lives outside of society’s rules
Who tears apart animals, tears apart minds
Did you understand then the creative power of the Labyrinth
Did you see the monster as its artful executor
Did you realize that the masks you wore —
The unpopular Priestess, the love struck, hero-worshipping girl
The opportunistic savior to the people
The redeemed comeback kid
The unwanted, discarded slut with blood on her hands —
Were just as brittle as the mask of the Athenian “hero”
Who used you, f∩©&Σd you and left you to die
What was in your heart then
When you had nothing left. No brother, no hero, no dignity
When you had only yourself
And the tunnels that are eternally pregnant
At that moment, Ariadne
I believe what you saw in your heart
Was Freedom