More on Arks and Middle Passages…
Who knew the unlearning would seem as though a vice to even ourselves? Who knew it would feel like hell? Have you ever listened to Anita Baker’s ‘Fairytales’. I was afraid of this song as a child; along with ‘Little Walter’ by Toni! Tony! Tone! (I just got the chills). She’s singing the secret: my fantasy is over, my life must now begin. It’s a gospel song – rhythm, blues, and being saved so that you might save yourself. The pianist goes awwwf! Almost eight minutes of a blissful reality check. Because it matters who takes us to the other side. We got lost. And then found again. And again. Some of us just sat there until we went to sleep. And it’s ok. Maybe the rest is what saves you. God is in everything, anyway. And sometimes we are not Beauty or The Beast. Sometimes we are the wilting rose in the glass vase. Sometimes we are the mirror-mirror on the wall. Or the snow and waiting that falls around Snow White; the fireplace and waiting that warms Cinderella (and her stepsisters); the Cowardly Lion and a road the color of sunshine (just in case we look down) – perfect hiding places for His black sheep. He’ll put you into any story as he sees fit. We are reading lessons, rectification, sadness even in summer, love even in the flood. We are learning the unlearning until we are able to write our own stories, the right way – God, ‘Body and Soul’.
MAHism2025: prose, poetry, peculiarities... 