"The God of Fragile Things"

I. True Quenching


It began

when I dipped my hand

into an icy mountain stream.


The thirst quenched that day

was not of mouth or throat

but of soul.


I've not been the same since that communion.


In an instant I saw another way

and banished the wrathful god.


>|<


II. It's All About the Messages Carried In Your Head


The Wrathful God.

You know him alright.

He's the one that says

you have to prove your worth.


He's the one that prattles on that the flesh is evil.


"Destroy your bodily impulses,

or banishment, punishment, awaits you."


He's the one that clamors on and on,

well into the night,

that you have no value

unless you're working

for his great mission

of dominance.


Water can be a spear,

or a healer.

The Forest Spirit can be a lancet that pierces a boil.

A mountain can be a womb of rebirth.

With just the right amount of moon-gazing

Lady Lantern Moonlight

can purify you

of all the false messages

you've been carrying in your head.


And, so it was ---

on that great hill of gray and green,

swaying pine branches and ospreys calling,

I became a devotee of the God of Fragile Things.


>|<


III. Transmission


Radiating upward through chilled fingers,

entering the heart through frosty breath,

the message was resolute.


You were born out of the vast mystery.

Your inherent worth was sealed

at the moment of the Big Bang.


Radiating upward through chilled fingers,

entering the heart through frosty breath,

the message was refreshing.


"You only have to let

the soft animal of your body

love what it loves." (Mary Oliver)


Radiating upward through chilled fingers,

entering the heart through frosty breath,

the message was freeing.


Your simply being...is enough.

You being grateful...is enough.

Relish in what is offered, created, shared.

True value can't be added on.

That which is of true worth was here all along.





image: Timothy Dykes