Posted by giveawayboy on January 10, 2004 at 13:32:12:
My head is heavy like lead
Like wet leather
Like a manatee
Flopping like a beached manta
Crashing down like an empty dumpster, numb...
Still, it is bowing
Bowing before the God of cowstalls and handbells.
Bowing before the God of flower-shaped butter cookies with a hole for your finger, the ones with the pink icing on top.
Bowing before the God of old Greek ladies with grey and blue hair.
Bowing before the God who's children rent an old house to the boyscouts.
Hoping, that somewhere beyond wine and grape juice, beyond neat systems and grids, beyond or inspite of the contradictions of prophets, in spite of or in light of the screaming birds, that he is holding me.
Holding me since it's not good for man to be alone. Holding Abraham and Isaac. Holding Jonathan and David. Holding the tiniest weak sparrow or the hearts of kings, like mighty rivers, turning them at will, or making them still.
Still, I can't and don't insist, but I bow my heavy head in reverence of someone I cannot fathom, but trust is there.