I hope God gives me a body, to refresh this, now worn down one. A fine body with a strong smile...humorous cracks and facets, a body capable of lifting, not only myself...but others up, a body for making love. But not a 'pretty boy' body, rather...a body revealing character and flaw and hope.
It comes to me, that this would be 'the old school' body. No wet handshakes, like a dog pissing itself, or an 'emoji' to replace the emotion of a real smile, or a heart shaped emoji, that aims to reduce love...from the complex wonder it is, to a single syllable bumper sticker.
If God loves me...he knows I am 'errant', of course, because imprisonment, is the reflex of such captivity...not the healing of it. As God knows all things, he knows my needs, my desires...even without asking. Perhaps, he will be kind, and make a 'real' human of me...when I am new again. I hope so.
It comes to me, that this would be 'the old school' body. No wet handshakes, like a dog pissing itself, or an 'emoji' to replace the emotion of a real smile, or a heart shaped emoji, that aims to reduce love...from the complex wonder it is, to a single syllable bumper sticker.
If God loves me...he knows I am 'errant', of course, because imprisonment, is the reflex of such captivity...not the healing of it. As God knows all things, he knows my needs, my desires...even without asking. Perhaps, he will be kind, and make a 'real' human of me...when I am new again. I hope so.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Ganymede, by Gustave Moreau
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