Weeping Joy - A poem

The Angel of Compassion - Arifa Asariah

                                                    


                 WEEPING JOY

In the still, small voice of perdition
they call out to you...   forgiveness, love, kindness
for you have none
spent as it is in all the wrong ways
in order to save you from those
whom you would claim as masters
or slaves
and never see as equals

Oh garden of Gethsemene
he sat alone to weep the fate of kings and saints
alone the night passed
alone he shone his light
the stars went out
one by one

Jesus creeps into his trapped cave
alone he feigns his capture and death
alone he weeps his sins away
(Judas were you not always but one step away from right
and I saw it not... he calls into the forbidden night)

Who is our enemy
Have we only had paranoid visions of treachery
as our companions

I know that I could be both Jesus and Judas
though I am neither
for I am crucified betrayed and the betrayer
(the one who has taken the 30 gold coins
to kiss my own fate)

If only we could escape the long dark hour
whence came all deceit

If only we could fall neither into nor out of
desire and fearful fantasy

For I know not who we are become
with all the devious dealings
thrust upon us
and we have thrust upon each other

But of fate we have none
of destiny we have no way of deviating
of life we have the broken path to walk upon
and death that dark and awesome healer
we have yet to make friends with

Oh hear them cry out
those faithless followers
for when the dawn comes
they will turn to their dreams
and beg for sleep
one more hour
one more day
and for sure our time 
dwells closer than comfort allows

Pray then to take me to my rest
as I pray to strike the hand that cares not
for its own bodily temple

For when the dawn comes and the cock crows
and the ones who herald the new are trumpet weary
where then can you rest your overstuffed heads

The time for freshness in thought
seeks nourishment at the root
of all your dealings
and the pain of intemperate longing is nigh

Creep on your knees before the ones
who would paint your pain
and destroy your hated temples of punishment
with the sound of weeping joy

Take the water to your lips and drink your fill
for gone is the need for respite and reason

Let go of the master
Let go of the slave
Let go of the child broken in glass pieces
Let go of the long gone reasons for broken trust

Awaken to the new world 
beyond the cave of death

Awaken to the joyous search for the spirit
within and without

And the great Messianic Truth



1997 Arifa Asariah