So then the question is
Intro to religious thought is a freshman honors class, not to
say that all students are freshmen nor that all
are in honors, the University is gracious to acknowledge
that religious thought is not limited to the extremes of
pendulum academia, but it still worries me that I am in intro
to religious thought as a senior, perhaps too late for
my uneducated spiritual mind, you see, I thought I had been
studying such thoughts this whole
time, but my transcript say differently and so I sit and listen to
the professor named Power, tenured in religious
thought, from having lived long enough to cite most sources
on a first-name basis: Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, etc...
I hesitate to ask of his last conversation with them, after
all I am just here for my certificate, but from my
vantage point, looking up for wisdom from the crown of
his balding illuminate head, it seems as if I have
oversimplified my creator's dialogue: having sought faith
in the glow of a morning-after thrill, enamored by
the daffodilled skates of a railroad track in full bloom, or
the stifling breath of a dream in frost, then
renewed, in agonic tussle with my own thought from the
helm of my two-story bed, as prayers remain
heard but unsaid, in drunken reverie of the crush of
my best friend, I told her he loved her and
that was the end, from the vantage view of a rooftop
ladder, saw God and Hell and a sun set on
fire, then spoke of love like a four-letter word, then spun
it, a web, to mask my desire, then stood up on
stage to remember how bright, the grimace, the freedom,
the encompassing light, then returned home like
a prophet with Manna, to share, to give, to cherish and
to raise with the night, after having done all these
things and then now to look up, at the reflective dome of
my teacher's wisdom slowly, slowly impart, to
see the pens of my peers' scribbling incessant, without
looking up they know the next sentence, so then
the question is, he says once again, what is the purpose
of existence (pause for the answer)
Intro to religious thought is a freshman honors class, not to
say that all students are freshmen nor that all
are in honors, the University is gracious to acknowledge
that religious thought is not limited to the extremes of
pendulum academia, but it still worries me that I am in intro
to religious thought as a senior, perhaps too late for
my uneducated spiritual mind, you see, I thought I had been
studying such thoughts this whole
time, but my transcript say differently and so I sit and listen to
the professor named Power, tenured in religious
thought, from having lived long enough to cite most sources
on a first-name basis: Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, etc...
I hesitate to ask of his last conversation with them, after
all I am just here for my certificate, but from my
vantage point, looking up for wisdom from the crown of
his balding illuminate head, it seems as if I have
oversimplified my creator's dialogue: having sought faith
in the glow of a morning-after thrill, enamored by
the daffodilled skates of a railroad track in full bloom, or
the stifling breath of a dream in frost, then
renewed, in agonic tussle with my own thought from the
helm of my two-story bed, as prayers remain
heard but unsaid, in drunken reverie of the crush of
my best friend, I told her he loved her and
that was the end, from the vantage view of a rooftop
ladder, saw God and Hell and a sun set on
fire, then spoke of love like a four-letter word, then spun
it, a web, to mask my desire, then stood up on
stage to remember how bright, the grimace, the freedom,
the encompassing light, then returned home like
a prophet with Manna, to share, to give, to cherish and
to raise with the night, after having done all these
things and then now to look up, at the reflective dome of
my teacher's wisdom slowly, slowly impart, to
see the pens of my peers' scribbling incessant, without
looking up they know the next sentence, so then
the question is, he says once again, what is the purpose
of existence (pause for the answer)
No comments:
Post a Comment