After a great wound no feeling comes
A white hot pain settles upon you
You stand in the fire of agony shivering
“Forgive them Father, they know not what they do,”
is a whispered voice, wrapped in cumulous clouds,
Tributaries of feeling blocked, the heart a mere stump
Enough, enough, enough
The well-intentioned speak of forgiveness skippingly on the tongue
Turn the other cheek produces a yellow, curled up feeling within
You’ve turned the other cheek so much, you have whiplash, and
your chiropractor is upping his fees.
You are so done
Chumped out by the world
Sick of greed lurch on the planet
Numb to the scalding rhetoric of gossip,
absolute abandonment of your Lord’s teaching
on mercy, on love Thy neighbor,
Dormancy is a tickling feeling
You feel your dormancy and know despite
Not wanting to, you are coming to life
It’s a crucible this world, and you have
Gone through the white heat of change
Ignorance and love will not cohabit within
You cast away the purple bruise of resentment
Which led you to the heart of your journey.
You will no longer resent
You will not forget
But, you are a leaf in the wind
Of the Will of your Lord
And you will love again.
Copyright © Esther Bradley-DeTally
Photo, top right: Michael Jastremski, OpenPhoto, Wikimedia
I teach four six-week classes on writing. My background training is from Oakley Hall, who was majestic novelist and teacher and co-director of Squaw Valley Workshop, and also from Jack Grapes, whose name is whistled in freeway corridors like a slick wind, a pied piper of a writing teacher. Both of these men earn my verbal praise every day. I have traveled from Moscow to Siberia, and to Ukraine, and then returned with my husband to live in Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine, and Minsk, Belarus. I studied writing methods at UCIrvine, and also took several courses under a superb journalist, Joe Bell.
I teach a class on Tuesdays at The Women’s Room, a place that leaps with great words and giant hearts. The women are either volunteers, homeless or in transition, and it is a great place of support.
On Monday nights, I teach in the basement of Ten Thousand Villages, near California and Lake, from 4:30-6 p.m., for donation. That, plus a few on-line gigs and tutoring gig, plus Baha’i activities and commitment to racial justice, keeps me busy. I have a novel in the second draft process.
Esther has written two books, Without a Net: A Sojourn in Russia and You Carry the Heavy Stuff. Her blog can be found at SorryGnat.wordpress.com.