Friday, March 13, 2015

Empathy

The screams of Islam's victims reach me in the night.
I hear them in the day through the din of normal life,
I hear the cries of children, of boys used as girls,
of girls used as property, and mutilated in their own most sacred...
I hear the weeping of women, and the bleating of God's creatures,
I sense the contempt toward this world's beauty, the stench
of loathing reaches my nostrils, and having no power but in prayer –
I have to bear it.

One hears how stupid Christianity is, how archaic, how weak,
one hears how arrogant the Jews are, how fundamentalist are both;
one hears little of Buddhists, of Hindus, they must have become irrelevant;
of Muslims one hears a great wind and clamor of how discriminated they are,
how misjudged, how maligned, intolerated, how misinterpreted:
one is not allowed to address the sheer lack of empathy
for the victims of Islam, these are denied recognition
as the mainstream sleep-walkers fall over each other – even atheists,
to recognize and fawn upon the "Religion of Peace."


Confrontation is only to be viewed as hostile hatred and vile bigotry,
no one can imagine that confrontation comes from empathy.
But I will say this once, and I'll be saying it again until one more awakens:
Being Human is something truly, deeply divine at its core,
the one question of any consequence being, what defines it, being Human:
it is not defined by power or by wealth, not by poverty or by shame,
it is not decided by ideology at all, or religion, or sexual orientation;
neither politics nor supremacy, nor tyranny nor pitied victimhood,
nor doing-everything-right nor following someone nor being good.


What decides and defines the Human Being is the faculty of empathy.
Real empathy cannot be manipulated, nor faked, nor sentimentalized;
it has the taste of consciousness, it both reflects and is spurred to action,
where action is required after reflection.



I hear much about tolerance and about co-existence, useful cudgels
in the hands of today's molders of NewSpeak, who know nothing,
nothing whatsoever of real empathy.


Thursday, March 12, 2015

NOAH

9. März 2015

Ach Ruhebringer, Friedenstifter, Kind!
Was für einen Name hat Dein lieber Papa
sich einfallen lassen! Durch Sturm und Wind
wirst Du Menschen ins Licht führen, erwacht und tapfer.


Noah, Noah, jetzt nur ein Hauch, ja,
in Liebe geboren, in Liebe umarmt, empfangen;
jeder hat seine Bestimmung, Du wirst eine Eiche,
hier spricht Dein Opa, mit Küsschen an Deine Wange.


Noah, selig und hold, Noah, der über Sintflut
und hin auf den Berg kommt, alles überstanden,
voller Mitgefühl, und Reife, Wissen, und Mut –
nur jetzt erst Baby Noah sein,
bei Eltern und Schwester, Omas und Tanten...


 Alles, alles liebe,
von Opa Sam

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Sovereign Presence

They stood over me glowering in disgust,
arrogant and assured of victory;
no point in discussion, they don't discuss.


"Your mantras and repetitions, bowing to images,
won't save but damn you," they said, "you'll never
see paradise, only burn in hell if you don't embrace what we are."

"It's alright,“ I said, “I'm not booking to paradise anyway –
and hell would be embracing you, so what could be worse?
I'm not going anywhere," I said, “but I'll tell you where we most differ:

We may both be prepared to be killed for our convictions,
but I will never be prepared to kill for mine."
"We'll send you to hell," they repeated, "but we serve the one true God!"

Reposing in the breath, trusting grace, I replied, "Neither
heaven nor hell await me when your sword falls,
only the Sovereign Presence, and I'll tell you now where I'll be:

In every face you have before you, in every eye you regard,
even as I'd placed myself between you and your victims
and looked you straight in the eye this very day:


I will be there looking back, witnessing, watching, reminding,
beckoning, haunting – you will have no rest. Sleep
will avoid you, no comfort in victory, that will be
snatched from your hands the moment your sword falls.

For you will never be rid of me, I'll be where I am now,
here in the Sovereign Presence, in mantra and in worship,
until that time your heart returns from the dead."




Friday, March 6, 2015

The Love Which Rules Me

This love is more exotic, more erotic, yes,
than all the lore can contain;
more sumptuous and more voluptuous,
and simpler it is, plainer as well, I'll explain:

Rich in color and in tones, this love,
humble as a mendicant, majestic as his staff;
natural as a baby's breathing life,
aged as a crone who can rage and can laugh.

Enfolding you within its wings, as it embraces me,
the lion and the lamb in one;
it moves – and moves within, this form as free
as it commands, and guides, and calls me son.

At sixty I remain in debt to all who brought me here,
the love that was in me invested shall not have been in vain;
still as a pond, roaring like cascading river:
life-giving force, of never-ceasing inspiration.