Archive for May, 2017

Iona 1991

Saturday, May 13th, 2017

Fallen, fallen
is Babylon the Great
Babylon is behind me here
Still I carry Babylon within me
When I see Babylon
I see the fallen city
the cities of the plain
smoke rises
a stench

the cry of the poor
lost, homeless, hungry
to the Hearer of Pain
cries to me
come out of
self-worth is shuckin’ and jivin’
only the Hearer gives worth

city of endless accumulation
your need is for me
city of greedy power
weakness is my power

at the margin again
wrong margin?
Timmy at the piers
his margin addresses mine
scruff to scruff
“Do you want a muffin?
I bought two and only ate one”
“oh sorry I just ate.”
“Well . . .
Can I have a hug?”

lost in the face of the city
I hug sorrow
I hug loss
I hug addiction
at water margin
hearts opened wide
blessing descends
loss in common
in the glow
of the Risen
in both
lepers alike
right on the right margin

city of imprisonment
sedates the Sedate
settlement of sedation
outside the door
the City wall
the Sedate
the Settled
come out of her
be with the Risen

my monastery
of repentance
of resurrection
Timmy at the piers