Chopping Onions Without Tears
for our unknown friend in the attic
papa faucon
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PRAYER STUFF
Been tryin’ to get it right here … you know, this prayin’ thing,
but I’ve been havin’ some trouble sortin’ out all the confusion.
Seems to me some of the stuff I hear be conflictin’ with scripture,
or homilies when I go to mass, or self contemplatin’ retreats.
Ought to be a simpler way – that’s for sure. How ’bout you?
We got Givens and Gifts, covenants and newer covenants – what?
What with grace and blessin’s and beatitudes and sacraments,
and letters and writs and seas and covens – no that’s not right!
Let’s see, feastin’ is bad and fastin’ is good, ‘cept about Saints.
Then it’s the other way ’round or somethin’ – mighty strange.
I’m ’sposed to figure out whether to pray to our blessed Lord -
if’n it’s about humanity bond or sufferin’ or getting’ ’round sin.
Mary get’s involved if we want sump’n special for kids or wife,
or just to get a jump on our busy Lord, whose walk’n the road again.
Don’t pray to the Holy Spirit much – maybe that’s my big mistake.
What I don’t get, my Father, is why it makes much of a difference.
You’re the divine God here – can’t you figure and sort it out?
If my salvation and peace must come from selectin’ the proper cell
in some heavenly spreadsheet – with the spellckeck turned off …
I don’t get it – too many rules and not enough passion here.
How ’bout I just cry at new golden sunrise and sing at starry midnight.
What if I wave at the homeless stranger and laugh away some child’s tear?
How ’bout I just remember the gentle words of eternal love and dream -
dream of Christ’s example and rough crosses to bear and share?
Can’t I just skip all of the tough ritual stuff and just kind o’ talk along?


Hello,
I love this; and it is exactly how I felt. Actually, I always felt out of place because, nothing made sense. I finally demanded that if there really was a Creator, He better teach me because nobody here knew. And, people were not acting the way they were teaching me to be.
Then, I believed the Karma thing so, the things that happened to me were my fault. Someone told me we recycle and that we choose to come back. If that’s true, I was a pissed off angry person in my last life, and I’m saddened by this one. When do I get to choose to get off the ride?
I only have a theory, like everyone else. Who has physical evidence? I took one thing the crucified one said, to see Heaven through the eyes of a child, and I simplified it. Telling it is long, though. I try to do my freewriting on my Soul Rehab wordpress and save more creative writing for here. It doesn’t always work.
I like your writing. I wanted to tell you.
Amen!
Morgaine.
Camelot Scribe.