Power Made Perfect Through Illness


While sick
The floor is splattered sticky.
The toys are strewn about.
Fights and attitudes go unchecked.
The snack drawer is raided
And the TV reigns supreme.

We lay about lethargic
Numbed by the blue light
And pacified by fairytales:
Ninjas captured in a genie's sword,
20-minute yard transformations,
Delectable bakes presented to judges,
Elves falling in love with humans,
A pirate cat, polar bear, penguin, and bunny rabbit
Rescuing sea creatures from man's indifference.

The mind, mush, has no defenses
Against its messages.
The bottom drops out from
All previously acquired pieties
And the needy soul is laid bare.
It wants sleep. It wants warmth.
It wants someone else to shoulder responsibilities.
It wants to know that everything will be alright.

God, 
Is your power really perfected in weakness,
In a house falling foul,
In unmonitored children
And non-stop TV?
Is your omnipotence manifested
In a body sickened and a mind undisciplined
Wandering in hopeless desolations
And previously prohibited reveries?

Have you not lost me 
As I lose all faith in my goodness and strength?
Will you still hold me 
If I cannot cling to you?
Will you keep me if, 
Like a diver made quadriplegic through an accident,
I'm suddenly rendered unable to move morally?
Was I ever moving myself?
I suppose I was not. 
But I thought I was.
And through this stripping of illusions
The truth is laid bare.
You have bound my wandering heart to you
Keeping me righteous
As I lose faith in me
In order to recall faith in you.


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