“Dreams
in God”

From
Kurosawa dreams to bending the metal of self
Have
you not always dreamt in gold?
The tender
touch of that other place
The tent
pole and stage and state of grace
Not exiting
one or the other
Not failing,
not ailing, not giving up the taste of ethereal amusements
To not
betray yourself or movement
You made
your dreams in God
Or at
least you thought you did
For you
have been sold an old wives tale of sin
Believing
that everything bright was false
You picked
an orchard of liquid and froth
Tasteless
in form and shape
You clowned
with the curvature of this silly race
Creating
nothing but what you thought was: praise!
As if
He was man and you could bargain
And plead
And manipulate
To be
alive
To be
near
To be
free
Wake,
wake up
This
is your only new task
There
is nothing irredeemable
We are
wearing old sacks
The glory
is in the dirt
The seed
is another word for death
The bright
lights of acclaim
Do not
last beyond this phase
There
is nothing to do but live out lives of loud desperation
To cry
To pray
To laugh
To sing
off key
To be
alive
Perfection
is not immersion
Getting
it right is a passing thing
Practice
is everything and words are sacred
Do not
think you are in some race
Fall
and fall and fall for this is grace
And oh,
I forgot
Pick
the bad apple
Shake
the tree
Rest
with a pint in hand
Let the
other hand hold your head in rest
Give
the good apple to someone who needs it
You
are far beyond disgrace
Far beyond
anything that stings
Be last
That
is first in upside down town
When
they ask us
When
they ask us why or what
Why all
this commotion
Why
is there substance underneath your froth?
What
is this thing you speak of?
Why do
you love so odd?
What
is the point of letting go?
Whisper
this:
We left
our dreams
In GOD.