Tom Sakic wrote:
But I'd like to go back to #4, just a little bit. It speaks, as you all said, also about writing/poetry itself ("searching among words")
I'm glad that you took us back to #4
What interested me was "My prayer divided against itself" and this searching for words and this female angel.
I am going to do something here that I really hope is not inappropiate. I am going to write something about my own prayers. It is something that I wrote a long time ago about something that happened a very long time ago.
It happened a long long time ago. I was living in a large house
shared by many people. It was during a time in my life when I felt it
to be a matter of great importance that I learn to pray. The idea had
been placed in my head that a person could pray in such a way that
they gather all that they are and place it into a prayer to Who cannot
be imaged in any way.
I didn't know how to pray like that but I was trying and it was a
struggle. I had the idea that I was often used words with people
more to conceal than to reveal and had developed some language
habits which reflected this and so it seemed really hard for me to
pray in a way that was honest but as I said I was trying.
The room that I liked to use to pray was one that many
plants were growing and that was the plant room because it had so
many windows and even at night the moonlight and starlight and
faint far away streetlights came through the window and so it was
late one night when every one was asleep and I was in that room
praying.
I'm not sure how I looked praying in that room with the moonlight on
me. I'm not sure if the struggle I was having looked like pain or
what. The reason that I mentioned the way I might have looked was
that during my prayer I found that I was being looked at. I noticed
that in the doorway I was being watched by an Indian maiden. I use the
word maiden because it seems to suit somehow.
In the house was living a very beautiful young woman who during the
day was always attired in a very conservative way wearing very long
dresses etc. and always having her long hair neatly braided and worn
high. That night when I looked at her standing in the doorway watching
me pray her hair was flowing freely and flowed far pass her midsection
and she was wearing only a thin nightshirt.
I had been praying on my knees.
When she saw that I had noticed her she came over to me and said that
she wanted to pray with me and then knelt in front of me and put her
arms around me and her hair flowed around both of us and on the
carpet. Under her hair I placed my arms around her as well. I had been
practicing celibacy for a number of years at the time. The body that
I felt pressing against me which I felt in my hands seemed to be the
most desireable thing that I had ever known in my life.
It became even harder to pray. I seemed to be placed in a conflict that
threatened to tear me apart. It seemed like I had to choose between
the soul and the body but I also had to do it quickly before they both
dissappeared. There didn't seem to be any end to how large the
conflict could become.
I did something that night that I knew would be forever counted
against me as my shame and if it wasn't I knew that it would be my
duty to make the case that it should: I didn't push her away.
I did something else that I knew for certain would make me someone to
be laughed at for my remaining days: I didn't stop praying.
The only way to end the conflict that seemed to be tearing me apart
was to come apart.
It seemed to me that she wanted me to love her in a way that I
couldn't love her and it also seemed that God wanted me to love Him in
a way I couldn't love and so I found myself trying to find a place in
the middle. Love was out of my control. I could only love her to the
extent that God allowed and I could only approach God to the extent
that she allowed. You might say that ever since I have been trying to
find a way to be part of the two sides of something getting back
together.
That is what I wrote a way back and I added a couple of quotes to the post:
There is nothing more taxing than facing a task that holds no mystery,
no fascination, no passion. --- Jonathan Lazear
I'm living so far beyond my income that we may almost be said to be
living apart. E.E.Cummings
It was about 33 years ago that I experienced this divide and much to my amazement it seems to me that I am now finally experiencing that two sides of something getting back together.
Anyone else want to talk about their prayers, or should we just stick to Leonards
Jack