“I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining”
I remember someone recently resaying
what has long lain unsaid
inside my paradoxical head,
When asked if I believe in God,
I don’t know what to say.
I might not believe in your God,
at least on my worst
pain-darkened day.
And,
I seem to believe in my own
only in those rare rain-free moments
healthy ego- and eco-gratifying
When I am having a climax heart
and head
song
and dance remembering
re-ligioning
reconnecting EarthMoment
Shared with at least one Other,
perhaps for our first through last time
in this
our day of sacred synergy
Sustaining
surrounding
celebrating a yellow morning
mellow sunrise
promising this wealthy day
without soggy rain
As we prepare to health harvest
warmly fragrant sun-dried hay
I quietly say
So, there is a God,
after all.
“And I believe in love
even when there’s no one there.
And I believe in God
even when he is silent.”
These two additional beliefs
feel like one Relief Belief
to my bicameral head choice
and heart voice.
For it has often been said
and felt
that God is love
Especially when
Matriotic HolySpirit of Love
doesn’t act like a Patriarchal Fool
And, by that,
I reference my own sociopathology
of privileged entitlement
monoculturally over-invested
in capitalist Straight
White
Earth Predations
Colonizations
Extractions
Rapaciousness
But,
my most courageous inscriptions
of whispering hope
often not felt enough
sacredly chosen silence
in spaces between
my LeftBrain dominant
distracting notes
Where my own AnthroSupremacism
falls vibrantly listening
to responsively hear
Elder MotherTrees
sigh
and breeze
Silently praying
for strong rooted
cooperative integrity
Within this organic Green Communion
forest of hands on
generating regenerous Hope.
Note:
Pandemonic Hope is part of a series of theological reflections offered to and from the All Souls Unitarian-Universalist Choir in New London, Connecticut.
“Inscription of Hope” was composed for the Nebraska Choral Arts Society and Children’s Chorus by Z. Randall Stroope, in conversation with a Russian Folk Tune. His lyrics are drawn from an inscription on cellar walls hiding Jews in Cologne, Germany, during World War II. Stroope’s own 1994 reflection on the significance of these words, in this Holocaust pandemonic context, “Hope was all they had to hold on to; hope was their only bridge to a brighter [nonviolently restoring justice] tomorrow.”
gdill52 