Gethsemane

The words I spoke so many years
Ago were heartfelt
Though I couldn't see
The path ahead I vaguely sensed
That great events on that decision
Rested and were set in motion
Not that they were evidenced
In things external all the time;
For time compressed and then expanded
Meaningless to One eternal
Instant here and now is all
The Infinite that matters.

Cheerfully and almost flippant
I imbibed the Cup of Poison
Drained it to the dregs and smiled and
Wiped my chin upon my sleeve
And thought myself the Cheerful Giver.

As I walked a little further
Stumbled now and then and thought
You had forgotten me, your
Favorite; I the Prodigal
Prodigious in my blunders
Though I seldom meant much harm
And thought of you how often
As my absent well-
Intentioned fickle Father
Peering periodically into my life
And rendering redemption
With a flair for the dramatic
Just to suit my taste.

But now the gig seems up
And you are asking
How much longer I must dally
On the road to my completion
As a work
For time is wasting
Days are numbered
In this garden
And the trash keeps piling up
Along the way
To keep me stifled, stumbling
Stepwise process I resist.

"Precipitous" the adjective
Used to describe my thinking
And decisions that forever
Keep me under tyranny
Of impulse animal
And not of Spirit.

Help me then, I see the road
That I must follow
I've described it often enough
For others, though I've seldom
Traveled very far along
The way I've pointed.

You provided me a Judas
Of my choosing
I created my indictment
Sought out and recruited soldiers
Lopped the ear myself and mended
Blamed, forgiven, broke the bread
And drank the wine
Perhaps too deeply
Caught up in the signs and wonders
Omens, incantations
Neon flashing lights and whistles.

God, how could I miss them?

I would tarry somewhat longer
Out of sentiment for this
Decay, I don't know why I'd miss it
It's familiar, I suppose,
And comfortable, but limited
In usefulness, just like a toilet
Needed only for a purpose
Not to live in or abide with all the time
Or share with others
Like a sandbox or a playpen
Comes a time I have to leave it
All behind and move along
Or lose my place
And with it usefulness
To You and me and any others
Be a drag upon the world
And only serve as bad example
Like a carcass on the ground
Beside a poisoned well.

I'll stand now and leave companions
Sleeping in the Garden
Take my medicine
And smile while I am scourged
Of useless flesh remainder
All I need to bring the Message
That the death I feared
Of what's familiar and a comfort
Holds no terror when it's welcomed.

Crucifixion is a marriage
And completion, all the demons
Really angels clothed by me
In fears imagined
Of the loss anticipated
The blood the consummation
I am sanguine of the outcome
But reluctant still and stalling
Ever stalling, though I'm stepping
To the arms of my own soldiers
Kiss the traitor; I forgive him
It's just flesh and unimportant
When not useful for its purpose
Vital vehicle for touching
What is manifest by Spirit
In this dazzling dimension.

I have tasted all the fruits
And meat provided at the banquet
And the road behind is not so long
Since time and space have been redeemed
Since words I spoke that set in motion.

Circumstance in retrospect
Is all compacted;
yesterday, a year, a lifetime
All the same now
Time does not exist
And I can die and go on living
Spirit manifest in flesh
And sanctified so take me
Do not let me stop or change my mind.

Oh, Father, never leave
My consciousness for I am fickle
Weak and dragged down by the muck
That I create to still my feet
I fear that I will stop somehow
And still be incomplete
Promise you will hold my hand
And pat me on the head and offer
Solace and encouragement
Forgive me for my raging
And for all the times I balked
And remember that although I whined
And cried I also laughed
Walked sometimes forward though
The fear for me was often real
And you seemed distant and detached
And unaware your child was frightened
Unsure what next to do
Sometimes defiant and rebellious
Of the very path I chose.

I won't regret or hesitate
If I can help it now
I feel so lonely, not alone
I'll try to not ask why
But keep on trudging
To Golgotha
Place of my reunion
You and I, somehow the same
And we will both be mended
And made Whole at last.