Sermon for the godless

I sleep late with my certainty

on Sunday morning, letting the

day break the spell of darkness

like it always has;  subtly at first

and then revealing the full

nature of our spinning.

I have learned to keep

the necessary things that prove

their place in the universe;

that show their accidental

designs in their morbid

architecture – free of ghosts,

or gods breaking laws

of the reality I am forced

to live and learn of.

Magic insults my mind,

my heart, the coffee in my cup,

the steam that makes its

presence known in sunlight.

I have no use for lines

and lies and lore

written in the darkness

of our early fears,

luring us from learning

done against the liturgy

that strives to steal the

wonder woven from letters

and numbers unwilling to bow

or break before superstition.

I believe in the seasons of the year

and the stretch of a day;

the length of shadows

extending further and becoming

less descriptive of their casters.

My garden has taught me

everything I need to know

of caring and kindness.

My aging face reminds me

I am just a metaphor

and that I must rest,

for I have worked all week

proving gravity and love.

 

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.

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2 thoughts on “Sermon for the godless”

  1. Henry, this is something….I like it very much

    I have no use for lines

    and lies and lore

    written in the darkness

    of our early fears,

    luring us from learning

    done against the liturgy

    that strives to steal the

    wonder woven from letters

    and numbers unwilling to bow

    or break before superstition.

    ….this amongst in the middle of the body of this piece is a lyrical ribbon of words…how beautiful and what a gift it is you have been given

    yes stay in the garden, plant early, dislodge the cold earth and don’t stop planting your words

    I would like to ask permission to post one of your poems on my blog….

    with thanks and appreciation,

    Erika
    salonunidad.wordpress.com

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