The religious edge in my mind

Be alive in life,or just be,choice.

The religious edge in my mind.
Casey, casey stands alone
As my Zen Buddha
Directly plugged into the
Collective consciousness of his world.
Kris said, “Go with those two long haired boys,
If they looked Ok”
Mother and I chuckle  
As the mortuary man struggled
To prepare us for Casey's
“Natural look”
Casey always was a "natural "
Bobbie’s Apache tears  
Propped open a double rainbow window
So we could see  
Casey threw the beauty beyond
An angel with him  
Patted my cheek with a velvet warm elk skin gloved caress
As my heart grieved for its loss.
Add two years, August 11th we drove  
To a double rainbow over  
The redwood deck in my Arkansas home
Faith, or coincidence?
I questioned, yet that same evening drove to the store
And returned to see a stag framed in the misty lighted glow on the side of the road 
Now etched proud in my memory 
How would Bobbie’s  Ollero, or White Clan of the Jicarilla Apache weigh this affirmation of life after ?
 
 
The queued finger pricking response in my brain
Reads a book in the rain
As Cindy drives past the bible van, seventy in the rain
Carlee asleep behind the front seat
Concrete center wall 
No open median here, on this turnpike
I feel the force, light 
Airy centered hydroplaned spin
Slide I don’t look up 
As I read, I relax and
Float feeling the collective weight of eyes in the van on me,
Us, the concrete barrier, now the wall everything,
 
All my years of wrestling
All my years of riding 
Stopping turning up and down
All my years of rope swings, zip lines
The whole of my brain’s central balance education 
Is cocked, loaded, primed, prepared
To respond to the impact of car and concrete
The smack fades through my 
Consciousness as an illusion 
I don’t look up as I read 
Correcting ,Cindy drives on 
Through the spin no smack and her, no over-correcting off
The side of the road
Bar ditch bouncing 
Tree shredding flipping stop.
Picture perfect balancing pirouette,
Poetry ,on she drives, now straight
Smiling in the rain, on pass the van again 
Their weighty eyes try to read 
What they just saw .

And I know there are angels.


Courtney’s older, but still innocent
Too young, nine, on Chases motorcycle
Straight for me she comes
Like a magnet, I sit in the back of our pickup tailgate down
Neck high; chin high, mouth and teeth high
 
On she comes like the highway men
My brain lights on a verse
 
Time suspends, revealing an artist clarity consciousness
I Can not accept, what has not 
What has not, the rules were broken
Something has intervened 
Courtney is fine, and I worry 
Those who dance must pay the fiddler.
What goes up must come down.
For every action there is an equal or opposite reaction.
Who pays what pound of flesh?
Must be given, what ripple, butterfly flap
For this gift  ?


Thank you for the grace today, I didn’t have then ,
On a cot weaved from rubber tires tubes,
In a mud tinned roof hut 
Next to an outhouse 
Through twenty-four hours of alternating,
Simultaneous projectile vomiting and runs, fever, chills,
I gave myself to whatever wanted me ,
Alive or dead, do with me as you wish ,
Let this interaction amusement of my being end. 
So if your bible beliefs lead you,
 it was then ,when I was,
Born again.
 
Later after watching and hearing....
 
The anguish soul tearing tears 
Of my wife in church 
Her mournful wails, rubber legged between the pews
Dump truck, cross over consequence
Open median progress,
The family glue, her mom,an arm length away,36 inches,
Fifty-eight years,
the casket, just there,
Later, later, I felt torn 
Enough to accept Christ,his mysteries,
Be clear. I’ve always felt a belief and brotherhood with a Holy Spirit,
Weighted in my center cut heart.
L V C

Author's Note

Even the twisted, trees reach for the sky.

Reviews

[m.s.early]

What an existential trip from loss to "near death experiences" through the realization of grace and the loss of confusion. Such as in the way our spiritual path takes us I could not see where the narrator was leading me at the beginning. Maybe I was a sheep leading myself away from the flock, but like a good shepherd the piece gathered me up and sat me no where else other than the Savior's lap.

What a remarkable way to express a car wreck. The author so effectively leads us through the mechanics of how the mind processes stressful situations. How time really does become relevant. What seems like hours is in reality but a moment. I think Einstein explained that time was relative by relating a kiss that lasts for an hour can be perceived as a second, while a hand on a flame but for a moment appears an eternity. I found myself gripping my armrest, fearing the worse for fellow passengers, but relied on the narrator's strange calm for hope.

Through this passage something magical happened. Without leaving the screen of my laptop I was in the midst of a careening vehicle, adrenaline pumping and then arms aching from clutching my arm rest. And like the weighty eyes in that van, I scanned my surroundings, made sure I was still breathing, reeling in almost disbelief at what just happened.

"Thank you for the grace today, I didn't have then" - Isn't this a grand summation of salvation? Pure bliss to not only receive grace, but to be able to recognize it (considering our terribly mortal shortsightedness). Gratitude is a critical step in removing regret, as forgiveness is the cure for anger, and confession is the cure to guilt (such spiritual tools necessary to rid ourselves of pride and experience humility).

"I gave myself to whatever wanted me ,
Alive or dead, do with me as you wish ,
Let this interaction amusement of my being end." - How well rebuked the lost sinner's credo manifesto. Our author here intimates submitting the confounded reasoning of the heathen in surrender to the Almighty. Watching the spiritual awakening occur in this narrator is such a deliberate display of the grand paradox, an utter surrender of self is the gain of spiritual freedom. Here begins the commitment to attain Heaven.

"the family glue, her mom,an arm length away,58" - maybe not this character, as she is so endearingly introduced, but someone no doubt prayed for the narrator, hoping he'd come to his senses, to be relieved from the bondage of self.

This is a wonderful walk abreast the spiritual journey of a man into the realm of the Divine. Never have I witnessed such an alluring and captivating and revealing testimony in poetry. My light is brightened having read it and I am reminded that within and without is the strength and courage to face the day ahead.

100 blessings + infintiy

[Sami Khalil]

You scored a touch down of faith and its twists and turns journey till the finished line. Heaven is the ultimate goal. Excellent...:)........

[Cryingkate]

I don't stop here enough, And your writes are worth reading again and again and it's always like the first time.

[A. Amos]

I agree with Jacob review

[Claire in VA]

I really enjoyed reading about this journey to salvation.

I am new here. This is the first piece of yours that I have read. The title attracted me to it.

I have only posted one poem so far because I have been far too busy reading great writes like this. I hope that you will read mine when you get a chance.

Very impressive!

~Claire

[Cryingkate]

Too many of my own connotations stared at me while reading this. I couldn't keep my eyes on the road you were traveling writing this. Instead I was revisiting travels I took.

i walked away from this ride with remembrances of the three times I couldn't gain control of my car, I tried to no avail and death was surely straight in my path and with no surety of certainty , I took the wheel and turned it the opposite direction and let go completely off the wheel and called upon God and to send me help. I said: "it's in your hands for I cannot" the last time I did that is the most memorable.
For when the car stopped. I wasn't sure I was alive. When I saw I was ,I had to climb straight up out of my window. I jumped down to the ground and looked at my saturn station wagon's bottom view.
I walked around each end of the car to see what stopped me from rolling over the cliff and into the swamp.
There i saw two clumps of brush. Lilac tree like brush, I think it was actually willow brush holding the car perfectly one on each end exactly the right length of the car. The only two brush there, holding the car as if it were hands.The other side of the road was the huge forest of trees planted by the state that I was trying my best to avoid, on that frozen roads that morning.
Three times I have let go of the wheel in this way and three times i walked away without a scratch. I wouldn't advise this ,for just anyone or at anytime, But I had no choice and knew I needed more then I am.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i think our poetry is our religion..for some of us it is the way we pray...the way give thanks, the way we ask for forgiveness, the way we profess our faith in something bigger than we could ever be.

a real journey in this...beautifully written.

jacob

[lee von cleef]

In sync I was posting to you a river fest memory my friends from alton were sharing.

[.......]

kind of deep in places as well as haunting.
There is always room for hope though,
Much enjoyed this.

[lee von cleef]

You clicked on a long journey,thank you for seeing it to the whistle.

[Tree]

Weaving your way through your family and memories, there is something about your poetry that always illuminates. In this case a journey, straight into the light...

I hadn't seen this one. Thank you for re-posting

Diego

[lee von cleef]

I was short of time,so I shuffled my list,Thank you as you say "For extending the light."