I’m attempting to know evil,
To understand and speak on its ways,
But like a well-meaning incantation I wonder,
If this may go all wrong,
Should I face evil
Will I wither in its presence,
Or stand steadfast with resolve?
Will I even know how to identify it?
Will it act coy and deceive with best intentions?
Will it proclaim it’s evil ways,
As comic characters do,
With long drawn out monologues?
I suspect evil is not so easy to be cornered,
That it hides just out of the corner of one’s eye,
Until it has usurped one’s vision,
It is ordinary
Until it is not,
Until it is something initially unimaginable,
Yet creation of this very world,
It is camouflaged,
And of various types,
Of natural and moral operation,
It is human in creation and, or at least in perception,
Evil is the lived unholy,
The antithesis of the ambrosia that is good,
It is terrifying in its presence,
And yet it has a worthy rival opponent in that very good,
That just like evil can be conjured by the force of will,
Of need and drive for a restoration of a healthy equilibrium,
The need and drive to see good prevail,
For evil is an ulcerative sore that can only venture to consume, consume, and consume itself, without a counter balance,
It is disheartening in its presence,
It is weakening in belief,
And yet with faith
There is a force possible to face it,
Faith in the possibility,
In the power,
In the continuance of good,
That which restores hope,
Which reignites will and belief
In the ability for good to face its opposition,
Evil seeks to weaken
With relentless pressure of that which is bad
Upon our lives,
It is oppressive,
A weight of negativity,
And yet,
It is in darkest night that the stars of hope shine brightest.
Evil is a reality,
And yet,
And yet,
We cannot let evil cloud the hope
that shall always remain in the possibility of good.
Tag: Theology
Humanity of Evil
My task will be to talk on evil,
What a daunting predicament I have put myself in,
Evil,
Such a short word,
With the utmost power
Such a complicated matter,
Of descerning what this force is,
How it is manifest,
And from who and or what it originates,
I cannot subscribe to the school of original sin,
That evil was originated via exercise of free will in a foreseeable folly of curious innocents,
I cannot see evil then placed blame on one gender for the flaws that would have been subject to any other curious innocent,
No,
Evil is a force that exists in possibility of the loss of good,
How is good known without the existence of it’s anthesis?
For this reason I see that evil has always been a part of the scenario, even if in the shadows,
Evil,
The word stings off the tip of the elevated tongue; curved like a snake’s,
It calls to mind images of most horrific atrocities,
And yet,
From evil one may always be amazed,
By the shape of which it may take,
Evil,
We talk about it in hushed voices,
As if in whispers it won’t find us,
Won’t be capable of coming from inside us,
Evil,
That which we imagine as horned entities,
Demons,
For recognizing the humanity of evil is too harsh to bear,
Recognizing the capability of innately innocent beings corrupting with time and influence is hard to swallow,
But if we can become this othered evil, surely there is room to become something better,
Surely there is redemption,
Surely there is still good, better, in this existence,
Perhaps too ordinary to see against the backdrop of horrible evils,
Perhaps we should look closer, deeper,
See what evil wants us to miss,
See the good that shines just as bright,
That heralds songs of light,
Like the presence of new birth,
The rebound of innocence,
In a world already scarred by evil,
Innocence and it’s goodness serves to heal.
In Spirit
I’m most with spirit
When creating works of art,
In faith formation
I’m off in spirit
When mind and hands are melded,
Creating a new
Spirit is in me,
Always, and I am in it,
I’m never alone
Big Questions
To whom shall I ask the big questions?
The meaning of life questions?
The “why do we die?” questions?
Who might hold the answers;
The trees?
The sky?
The ocean breeze?
What will shepard me to the next plane?
When will my time come?
For I only know that it must come,
Reliable like the summer rain.
Tarot Deck
Turned a card and found a way,
An image intricately illuminated,
Illuminating in its prescription,
Turned a card and found this way
Turned a card and found a new way,
assessments of past, present, future,
Staring deeply into the picture
Interpretations abound,
“Know thyself” comes to mind,
As I examine the symbols, cups, wands, swords,
Find your way in living,
Cards are meditative mediums,
Bridging with the spiritual that surrounds,
A deck shuffles and organizes the unexamined life,
To investigate within,
To investigate without,
To perceive the seemingly invisible,
The untenable,
That which lights our way without our knowing,
Here a glimpse behind the curtain,
Thins the veil,
A gift of the moment through a prism viewed.
Mystic Evolution
Awakening my soul,
From slumber I was unaware
It was sleeping,
Feeling the radiant power
Of thought turned into idea,
Transformed into action,
Cycled back again,
Layers pulled back,
Reveal parts of self I’ve yet to meet,
And as I come to know them,
Mystical mists sweep me to otherworlds,
Open hidden passageways,
And as I step through I am alone,
But supported,
I am evolving,
In faith and mind,
To be closer to the cosmos,
Both in and creating me,
And this is just the beginning.
She of Letters 