BY JAN HAAG
A TRICKY GOD
O Devayani, one of your strongest
conccepts of God is the
Isn't that odd.
Does that trace back to your
Where did you get the concept of
a God who tricks,
Everytime you think things are going
A slap in the face,
a striking down of your
faith, your trust,
your blissful tripping along in
And yet you want to believe in the compassion
the love of God,
the knowlege that God
surely must have of
of your limited capacity
to live in
day after day after day.
How the learning curve zooms
in the depths
at the bottom of trembling
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
From your father? O Devayani, a trickster, was your
a trickster and someone to be feared?
The breath in your body is almost gone,
courage in your heart is almost dissolved,
the hope of living in
There seems to be no way out or around
answers from the silence.
Think about God.
Go to sleep in the fear of the Lord.
Lie down in darkness.
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
So that if you must rise again tomorrow.
rise without fear,
you rise trusting
in the arms of God.
my cry O God.
do you believe there is anything but
Can you come to believe there is
beyond the silence and the tricks
that knows what it is
Could you ever come to believe that?
you come to believe in the
trustworthiness of a compassionate
please die of the fear tonight.
in the body.
Let the contorted spirit die.
And like the phoenix rise from the ashes
a state of trust
Whatever that may mean.
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
You have no idea how to surrender,
to trust, to love.
Devayani, the fear is deep and lasting,
The heart pounds,
every move is like a renewal of disaster.
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.
Make mince meat of me!
Eat me up,
spit me out.
I cannot live another day
Copyright © 2000 Jan Haag
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Jan Haag may be reached via e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org
BY JAN HAAG