“The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind.” –Bob Dylan
At a corner of the world, at a wall
still waiting for Godot as mullahs
and priests go by in robes, in pride,
in clouds of incense, being mystical
I think here of charred witches
and the dark magic of revelation.
Down the ages they come and go
hot and promising as new stars
only to collapse and freeze, unyielding.
As grasping as black holes.
The latest on the block,
intent upon eclipsing Christ
who subsumed Yahweh,
who buried a pantheon of Ba’als,
who defeated the sea god Yam
who rose fresh and dripping
from fathoms of the unfathomed,
is on the crash course
of those before which
by force, by inquisition
by crusade by imposition,
with divine insistence,
stained the white lines
of the highway to heaven
in blood.
But it’s good for the world
that this one at least is not triune,
has put all its eggs in one basket,
has not multiplied god,
because it only takes one divinity over-reaching
to cause a million mother’s weeping
It takes just one
in any new moon of magic
to eclipse the light of the earth
with a teaching
.
by Jim Culleny;
Jan 13, 2009
Blink 