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I’m a native Babylonian Born with blood from others like me A strong Babylonian mother who clothed and fed Cultured by my media, a shaved disciple before a glowing screen I breath in unison, initiated into the cult of this land My heart dreams in Babylonian. Not sure what to think when others Further along than I Declare their proud independence “I am in this world, but not of it, a stranger in a strange land!” Sipping Starbucks and glancing at their Seiko. I still unbuckle my discolored jeans They quietly pile on the cold tile floor around my bare ankles I sit on a white Babylonian throne Relieving myself from the burdens of waste Thin paper wipes the excess, fragrant soap and warm water combine to clean A daily reminder of where I’m from. I can’t invade this land A missionary zealot with appropriate passion I’m one of them and this land is already mine I’m changed, yes, I am newly alive A clean heart fixed to a renewing mind. But I know my stripes I know my noise and my quietness I have hope for where I go I walk newly now But as a Babylonian with love Among my people.
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
Babylonian
I’m a native Babylonian Born with blood from others like me A strong Babylonian mother who clothed and fed Cultured by my media, a shaved disciple before a glowing screen I breath in unison, initiated into the cult of this land My heart dreams in Babylonian. Not sure what to think when others Further along than I Declare their proud independence “I am in this world, but not of it, a stranger in a strange land!” Sipping Starbucks and glancing at their Seiko. I still unbuckle my discolored jeans They quietly pile on the cold tile floor around my bare ankles I sit on a white Babylonian throne Relieving myself from the burdens of waste Thin paper wipes the excess, fragrant soap and warm water combine to clean A daily reminder of where I’m from. I can’t invade this land A missionary zealot with appropriate passion I’m one of them and this land is already mine I’m changed, yes, I am newly alive A clean heart fixed to a renewing mind. But I know my stripes I know my noise and my quietness I have hope for where I go I walk newly now But as a Babylonian with love Among my people.
I spent many years trying to understand a Christian faith. At the time, there was a lot of discussion about "being a missionary" to your own land. "Engaging those around you" as if they were . . . something else.
mark-w-meehan
Written by
50/M/Nashua, NH
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
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