The Words of Others

Long gone are the halcyon days,
too bad they were so short-lived.
Sideswiped the cake, and stolen the champagne.
we drink the dregs and wait for the bell of last call.

A green yellow morning trundles violently towards the bed,
and we see our faith as mobile, relevant, and bold!
The reason is simple:

We are dead in our beds and hearts,
sickened to the stomach by the lingering want of living,
and the secret shame of not dying.
And the churches are rarely full and our many countries are being sold off, to the Mammon devils we fear no more.
Bowing mechanically into silence and turning our back into public discourse.

Going,
and growing,
evermore into stunned and unutterable disbelief.

Increasingly dependent on the words of others to
wear the many identity masks we wear concurrently – race, ethnicity, gender, class, language, region, tribe, and faith
all exist simultaneously.
While identity is not essential,
it is profoundly democratic to choose which aspects of one's identity to represent in the public.

But,
again,
maybe the presence of so many players is not the necessarily the issue.
The more voices the merrier...
maybe.
life is an effort to live a life of divine awareness and acting in accordance with high moral values and ethical standards...
and ,
even if this sounds terribly idiotic,
we need not be ashamed of that.