write down the miracles my mother said

ignore the anxiety in the background during the good weeks, and the faith may perpetuate the good months…is it based on needs and wants fulfilled, or are the needs and wants fulfilled as the faith endures? the latter is the stairwell, the elevator to the next plane, the next test of altitude-endurance…the air is thin they whine, the clouds at this height suffocate my eyes, i am going to lie down in the valley below on those soft pillows…but upon waking, the complacent me knows to sprint in noisy desperation to the fastest ride into completion town…to stare once more at the whites of lusty eyes and to be stared at as an equal or as a higher, pleading to the core that i never face inferiority for a moment, and begging God to let me remain in this now confusing state of still standing still, hoping that i am on a moving walkway, ever-willing to stand on the right as the impatient slaves storm past on the left, and despising them for thinking that they need to be somewhere more quickly…and in these moments of chaos, there is meph, perched under the bridge, trying to tie my shoes together so that i will fall on my chin and bite my tongue off so that i may never obey God’s leading to speak in love…would i go to the trouble to learn sign language or prefer to complain? the red-horned serpent would prefer that i go lie down on the lower plane and never arise and walk…but perhaps i truly have seen a miracle, and perhaps i can share the potent dreams that are realized when i wake up and approach the day, as the dream had already happened, and was a memory rather than an illusion…but why mention the darkness as if it is necessary to show the luminescence of the lamp? it is simply enough to know that the sun shines and warms without reminding myself that it is so different from the night.

~ by jaybol on May 26, 2005.

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