l i k e r u t h i n m o a b

like ruth in moab
i need to go
there is no naomi,
but i need to go
clearly i know that i have to get the fuck out
i have to get on a train
i've got to shake all of this
when i got up to get out of town
i knew i was getting away from the place
that frustrates me so much
the restricted life that ticks me off
so much
why do you bug me so much
now i know sister,and can
confess to your brother
i left to get away from one god
and follow another

the worship that comes
after a slap in the face
is silence
is the stun of nothing
the praise that comes with the
assault of pain, looking for the
reason of the pain and seeing no
reason for the pain
is blank sky
old land, no rain, nothing
and the pilgrimage is prayer
and you can see over there
and after the hurt and throbbing tears
the holy journey is you in
desperation flying

it is too early and i am too fresh,
too not awake
too much remembering the
unsubtle pains of the past
to pretend things are better than they
are
and i am too full of the memory
of defeat to take optimism too
far
i've beleived for a long time
and walked past the bethelem star
before i said, Jesus is, and jesus gives
and now i live saying
nothing

i used to travel and
now there is no one to travel to
and you stayed home
so i travel alone
because i need it
and because i love the land passing by me
and i don't want life to pass by me
and i need to shake this all away

its not that we are so great
or this is so great
or everything, lately, that has happened
is so wonderful
only that it is all there is
at the altar open yourself to what is
and throw yourself down
cut your face open and spill out
your blood
give your energy
and in it see the sacrifice of all
that has been
and all that will be

i am not afraid
to be a lover of strangers
the electric danger is all
there is
and how do i know what is
if i cannot run to it
and how do i love
if i cannot love it
and how do i know you
if i do not know the stranger in you
and then
how can we stop from being strangers?

in the end there is only you
and you
and you
and the few of us
we are not a large community
those who have shared life and love
and tasted skin
and what is man
who is made from a spurt of water?
and what is man so prone to sin
and what is man
made of a clot
and clotted together again?
man is the joy of me
and me and all i see
and man is you

i keep losing you and finding you
to lose you again
i would love
this time
to find you for good
the magic furry brown bag
the eartny satin of your skin
i want again
your elfin smallness
and your allness
and the loveliness of you
the little you
in this bed

i used to sing of the bridal chamber
i will not sing of things i cannot see
he brought me to the desert
and that is fine
i used to sing of the festival
and the bright season
these days i don't write about wine
i endure
i live, i learn not to pine
equilibrium
or something like it
is his gift

at five am i may remember the key to life
and at five thirty i will start to remember
its source
cold as the north
and sluggish as the south
tired of surprises
i blink my eyes
gummy faced and freazy i shut my
eyelids
you hid so much from me
yesterday i was so proud of everything i had done
make me proud of no doing
make me a being
make me less than the earth
and more than believing