Couldn’t recall how I got here.
Trying to find my way out of the woods unsure of who I am.
This rude awakening, enleadens me, weary and ashamed by past behaviours, realizing I’d been misjudged and slandered by presumptions. Memories recovered and no denying I was covered in mud and reeking of a cesspool.
In the distance, I can hear cars passing by and I know I’m on the right track but I sense that time is short.
High pitched buzzing, pinging sounds all around me, impacting the ground.
Dirt and leaves explode upwards, then gently float down exquisitely on a ray of sunlight. Captured like a shutter in the blink of an eye, imagery committed to memory for such a time when a “peek of radiance” may be just enough to get through another day.
I walk a minefield oblivious to the danger. I continue on this somnus ambulare (sleepwalk),urged on ..as if heeding a call.
I come to rest under the shade of a tree that seems to bear “strange fruit”.
Hungry and tired, I shake the tree and seem surprised…to not be surprised, when snipers come tumbling out.
Angry, injured, bewildered, bitter and dismayed to see me still standing. They limp away, a curse on their lips, hatred in their hearts, pierced by their own arrows, blood on both edges of their swords.
Bleeding, blood and honey, I scratch my head, shrug my shoulders and continue on, mind reeling, unknowingly mimicking a drunkard’s stammer.
Leaning contrary to the wind of every repressed memory, buffeted by a stinging rain that makes me wince, nerves twitch, shoulders stoop, keeping my head bowed and forging forward.
Any benefit of doubt compromised by the illness that overtook me from not dealing with the abuses I‘d suffered. Taken advantage of by the unscrupulous, who preyed on the vulnerabilities, gullibilities of my compromised awareness. “Are you my Mommy? “, said the lost baby duck to the she-wolf (succubus). The weight of who I’ve been, the things I’ve done…and those done to me, making my knees want to buckle and just give up. Deceived into entertaining the false belief that giving myself up to my enemies or those I’ve affected by the sins before me, by actions or inactions, would make any difference. That perhaps peace and rest could be attained by allowing them to tear me to pieces to satisfy their bloodlust for vengeance, by a mob I was completely unaware of. Talking in circles to me under the guise of friendship seeking to entrap me. Making no accusations that I may defend myself against. Aware more than I of my dormant illness, hoping it will emerge to convict me in any generic way to satisfy their hidden agendas. “If you’re capable of one thing it stands to reason, why not the other ?” (Matthew 7:2 ) “For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you.
The hunters released the dogs to flush out their prey,
Wounded it, but it got away.
Served a purpose most profound,
hear aflutter but eventually,
a lit upon solid ground.
The sleeper has awakened.
Denial, repression so sickeningly deep, churning inside me…unconscious of the beast I’d given free reign to in my despair and weakness.
By Grace, the beast is gagged and bound.
By Mercy, what was lost is found.
The debt paid in full by the blood of the “Most Holy”.
The voices of assassins, fade off in the distance. Doubts fill my head for I am just a man with the stone dislodged from his heart and stones embedded in his skin for so long that the flesh began to grow over it. I am tempted to turn and run to them and say “here I am, do as you will”. As if “the debt” be owed to them.
Another voice…not literally a voice but an awareness, a gentle whisper like thunder comes to the fore and I am open to receive anew. It says:
“C’mon…just keep coming…don’t look back, pay them no heed. Follow me…don’t be deceived again, C’mon home Son…Supper’s on the table”.
This is “The voice”, in my heart that I know beyond a doubt is the voice of my Creator !
For so long, drowned out by all the noise in my mind whispered in my ears by demons loosed upon me at the age of six, at the hands of those entrusted with stewardship over me and the insanity of subsequent years of dysfunction.
I had shut my eyes so tightly from the pain, held my breath for so long, I could not break free from the vicelike grip. Conditioned to trust authority, trust my elders but betrayed and deceived ! When I shut down, I shut you out completely ,dismissed as crazy for so long I believed them.
But I hear you now and that‘s all that matters ! Forgive me Father, forgive them Father and Bless my family my ancestors my sins against the “Body” and my enemies “70 times, seventy times”.
I humbly pray thee…break this curse if it be thy will and set us all free from restless spirits, deflected now by the full armour of God, but who continue to wander the earth nonetheless seeking the ruin of those souls caught unaware.
( My Mother told me about a recurring dream she’d have, in it I was a child and my Father had his hands over his eyes counting out loud…and I was scurrying about searching for a hiding place. She said we seemed really happy…“hide-n-seek“. )