Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Worn-leather Armchairs
Tonight, when the hour is late and the house quiet...
once you've been tucked in, each prayer gently tended to,
your god and I will sit in worn-leather armchairs and talk
about whatever is on our minds.
"Sometimes I still think you're right..." he often begins,
as he meets my gaze with weary eyes.
"...that somehow everything is going to be fine."
Then neither of us will speak for a time.
"You know..." in response to some unknown spark in his mind,
"...the age of the world escapes me.
My memory is just not what it used to be."
And when, after a time, eyes close and body slumps,
I will rise, almost an old man myself, to blanket both god and chair.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I let you in
when I was young.
You listened, you were with me
when no one else was.
Now that I'm older
I wheel you around.
Feed you by spoon.
Listen to your fears
of the end.
But you won't die for some time yet
because,
omniscient or not,
We are one.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This is a fascinating way to talk/think about/with god, and I certainly feel like I can relate.
ReplyDeleteThe inspiration for this came straight from an incredibly poignant song by a guy named Ben Sollee, "Panning for Gold". It introduced me to the idea of God as fragile and elderly, as if his strength and youth have faded along with our belief.
DeleteIt's a really honest idea. If we're honest, from our limited perspective, god is like a thing from our childhood that we keep around, sometimes just for old times sake, or something inherited, a part of you that you often don't take seriously but humor, just because.
DeleteExactly. Playing around with our idea of god can be helpful, because it redefines the relationship. When our conception of god no longer agrees with our experiences, it can become a token belief - that thing you just carry around.
Delete