BY JAN HAAG

POETRY + ESSAYS + MUSIC + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART

INTRODUCTION + HAAG'S BIO





A TRICKY GOD

9-30-99





O Devayani, one of your strongest
conccepts of God is the trickery.

Isn't that odd.
Does that trace back to your father?
Where did you get the concept of
a God who tricks,
tricks you.

Everytime you think things are going swimmingly,
Whamo!
A slap in the face,
a striking down of your faith, your trust,
your blissful tripping along in ignorance.

And yet you want to believe in the compassion
of God,
the love of God,
the knowlege that God
surely must have of your
needs,
of your limited capacity
to live in
howling fear
day after day after day.

How the learning curve zooms
up in the depths
at the bottom of trembling
fear.

Fear, O Devayani.
Where did you get the strong concept of God
as that which is to be feared,
almost as much as that which to be feared
is man.

From your father? O Devayani, a trickster, was your father
a trickster and someone to be feared?

The breath in your body is almost gone,
the courage in your heart is almost dissolved,
the hope of living in peace
slaughtered,

There seems to be no way out or around
no answers from the silence.
Pray.
Meditate.
Think about God.

Go to sleep in the fear of the Lord.
Lie down in darkness.
Pray that you will never rise again,
to face this fear,
to run howling from this fear.
Pray that in the night
that whatever needs to happen to you
happens.

So that if you must rise again tomorrow.
You rise without fear,
you rise trusting
in the arms of God.

Hear my cry O God.
O Devayani,
do you believe there is anything but silence?
And tricks?

Can you come to believe there is something
beyond the silence and the tricks
that knows what it is doing?

Could you ever come to believe that?
O Devayani,
can you come to believe in the
trustworthiness of a compassionate God?

O Devayani,
please die of the fear tonight.
Either die in the body.
or
Let the contorted spirit die.

And like the phoenix rise from the ashes
into a state of trust
and love.

Whatever that may mean.

For, O Devayani, you do not know what love might mean.
You do not know what joy might mean.
You have no idea how to walk in the light of a joyous God.
You have no idea how to surrender,
to trust, to love.

O Devayani, the fear is deep and lasting,
The heart pounds,
the breath is short,
every move is like a renewal of disaster.

O Devayani, consent to my soul's dying in the night,
consent to my body's spirit leaving in the night.

Let me go,
O you trickster God.
Let me go.
Make mince meat of me!
Eat me up,
spit me out.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.

I cannot live another day
in unabating fear.








Copyright © 2000 Jan Haag
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Jan Haag may be reached via e-mail: jhaag@u.washington.edu




OTHER POEMS



BY JAN HAAG


POETRY + MUSIC + ESSAYS + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART

INTRODUCTION + HAAG'S BIO



21st CENTURY ART, C.E. - B.C., A Context