Staring into the Fire

The singular life you’re living is an astonishment. A statistical improbability. And yet, here you are, doing what you’re doing. People are goose-stepping in a military parade in North Korea, singing alto in a choir in Kenya, or smoking weed in a field of daisies in the Alps. Someone is starving in Cuba, bombed out in Lebanon, or issuing psychotic threats designed to make the ultimate deal.

       “We like to think of y’all as one seething miracle,” God chuckles.
       “And I like to think of this hot mess as a rotting pile of shit. With the occasional shiny moment.”
       This cracks God up. After they catch their breath, they tell me, “It’ll all come out in the wash.”
       “What wash?” I ask.
       “The Wash of the Ages. The Blazing Baptism of Infinity.”
       “No one likes the sound of that,” I say. 
       “Listen anyway. And look directly at the fire.”

This particular moment, shiny or otherwise, is yours. It, too, is an astonishment. Lift your eyes from these words slowly. Stare straight into the void that is your future. Settle. Don’t cry. Don’t scream. Don’t laugh. Do nothing but warm your hands and be honest.

       “I’ve got four horsemen fleeing, three gods in waiting, two doves turned away at an artificial border, and one faithful moon reflecting every bloody thing.” God shrugs as if this is all passé. 
       “You’re being difficult this morning,” I complain. “Where’s your downy underbelly?”
       “You’re my downy underbelly.”
       “No. I want to be greatness and glory,” I protest. “Not soft.”
        “Everyone softens over time. But you must also be steady and brave.”

You’ve been sworn to a secrecy so wild and profound that it is beyond memory. Laced with magic, ladened with love. You once were and will again be a swirl of sparks and pigments. But for now, nothing has ever mattered so much as justice and mercy. Welcome your longings and ignorance, your power and fear. Tend to the prairies and the oceans. Temper your greed with compassion. Admire the mountains and the sun. Circle the moon. And wear your courage like armor over your tender heart.

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