REBLOG: ‘Ruach and the Flute’ by Tanmay Philip

Poem:

I was sinking
In insecure delusions
Illusions
Hallucinations
Looking for meaning
In their voices
Of ridicule
And hate
But now
I’m picking my scabs
Looking for auguries
On my raw skin
I was never good
At appraising value
A good target
For the con man
Selling decaying wood
And bad neighbourhoods
Near markets
Selling regret
And pain
Now I try
To break out
Of my chains
Let them
Judge value
While I
Close my ears
To their litany
Of hate
I won’t let
The rage consume
Me again
Though I am still divided
My soul
Cleaved in two
Close to its last breath
Ruach
Playing a flute
A song
With all that’s left
While men kill and loot
Led by people
Drawing lines on a map
While priests
Violate every precept
Of decency
And still become
In persona Christi
I find nothing sacred
And no metamorphosis
In their solemn figures
For those brief moments
Of divine descent
The Anointed One
To me
Is not a traditional high priest
So content in his temporal authority;
He eats and drinks
Among us
Tax collectors and sinners
Drinking and dancing
Feasting
Born among us
Among the sheep
And the dirt
And not from a distant altar
Or a tabernacle…
I think
But I don’t know
I’m now living
Purely
On muscle memory
My heart beating
Prematurely
Yearning for
A burst of energy
My spirit is willing
Flesh is weak
Things look so bleak
I have no future
Nothing to call dear
Nothing of which I’m sure
Full of inconsequential cares
Full of stagnant air
I have given in to despair
For too long
My soul journeys now
To latch onto
Anything
Of true worth
Something
To feed my will
The Breath
Plays a trill
Sending shivers
Of pleasure
Through my body
I can trip on this sound
For eternity
But who does it belong to
Now that it has left me?
My eyes tear up
I don’t know why
I have lost something
I never knew I had
I still have no idea
I have to find out
What it is
Before it can be found
Again