This has nothing to do with the Absolute -
     this idea of God.

In childhood, God was the loving
     Father in the sky -
Outsized, sporting a flowing white beard, and
     ever attentive to my prayers.

Now, God is an abstract notion -
     transcendent and immanent,
Infinite, eternal, and
     difficult to embrace.

But all of this has nothing to do
     with God -
All these continually mutating
     mental constructs.



- fr

You're like a book with a pretty cover
I have yet to open but so eagerly want to read
Your mind has so much for me to explore
Your thoughts and the way you talk
Your heart and the way you walk
I want to study it all
Every line of your existence
And every crevice of your skin
Teach me how to love you
As I mark your words with my pen
Into the memory banks of my mind
So I can never forget you

Comes a time when you surmise opportunity is ripe to dare a move
to allow fingers to do what they were meant to:
to reach and touch another's.
Or a hunch
those words often held
in check
have reached the point to breach
the dam of uncertainty
cos you can't hold 'em back.
Comes a time when there is certainty
in a feeling that there's
more to this than pleasantries,
and perceived fringes of opportunities.
Comes a time when you commit
those thoughts
and digets
and lips
to the lean
to the kiss
to the pathway
of least
resistance.