I come from out of the East

the rising sun the photic mantra
of my rebirth
the earth
acknowledging me
as I tread towards the horizon

I have passed through
the pillars
and stood at the edge
of the cliffs
and laughed as I leapt
as I wept
as I flew downward
32 feet per
second squared but not afraid
of anything
but leaving you alone
if I don't
be as strong as possible
and then some

for I was content
to fade into the grey
until you said
follow me
like some new messiah
and I followed
out of curiosity
and desire
and an affection
I had been carrying
like a rock
now smooth with grinding
smooth enough
to play cannon shot
when needed

so I followed you
and gave my soul
that you might know
I am not one of your
schoolchildren suitors
needing tutors themselves
on the lessons of love
no matter how good it feels
and how malleable
they may seem
to the plastic heat
of your naked intellect

it is odd
that my god(ess)
has more of a crisis of faith
than I do.
troubling and exhausting.
like finding out
that Colonel Sanders
was never really in the army.
or that some
go to heaven
without benefit of the King James Version.

but it is in these quiet crucibles
that we find our faith
tested and molested.
our souls burdened.
our purpose questioned
as other deities smell blood
and show up, full lipped
and slipped into the tightest
of gowns they stole from Aphrodite.
and the test never ends.
and I am so afraid.
and so alone.
but that is where we are proved.
that is the essence of truth.


William F. DeVault.  all rights reserved.