What We Believe

If God is who many say He is, I know He isn't true;
He has too many of the selfish ways that humans do:
He wants us to leave our children unattended to worship Him;
What we work so hard to achieve, He destroys on a whim.
He produces children to be sacrificed to assuage His wrath,
Allowing the cruelest rulers to lead us on His defined path.

Just as people are given hope to live in peace on earth,
He gives the reigns of earth over to a new era that is cursed.
The followers of His son are now guilty for His son's suffering,
And now must live through the punishment that this sin brings.
His humans were never meant to live in peace in this life;
We were created, to this hungry god, be eternal sacrifice.

Should we believe that any generation will be given the keys
That will finally this, eternally insatiable godhead, please?
I think not; I don't believe Eternal Sacred Spirit is a godhead,
Ancient symbols for what innocent humans were taught to dread.
I believe The Sacred Spirit is meant to be eternally mysterious,
Only manifested in the responsible compassion of all of us.

Religions seem to be created to limit our understanding,
So that we each, like cattle, accept their tribal branding.
This may have served before the fullness of humanity,
But this does not promote peace in global community.
I refuse to accept an eternal Sacred Spirit that is limited
By faces, and feats that human perception has permitted.

I enjoy hearing the awe of innocent children's discoveries;
I prefer to accept, as sacred, what the young child sees.
Children see no unacceptable colors or earthly anomalies,
Until their authority figures show that we're displeased.
When we stop allowing our fears to define The Sacred,
We'll, again, be in the eternal Garden of Eden, and naked.

One Person's Saint Is Another's Sinner

I have huge objections to the declaration of some people as saints, as I know from experience that one person's saint is another's sworn enemy. This was the case with me and my mother. I accept that I simply brought out the worst in her, as did most of her motherhood ministry. Woe be to anyone for whom she felt the responsibility of leadership! Even homemade exorcisms were not beyond her attempts to drive the demons out of those for whom she was responsible. For this, she was never without much "holy" water.

As a very strictly devout pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic, she spent her life ministering to all the poor and priests in the parish, in which, unfortunately, she did not include her husband and nine children. We were left to fend for ourselves as she filled our home with drug addicts, whores, and unwed mothers. Daddy would come home after weeks on the road with his job and find no room for him in his own bed. When any of us objected, we were banished, many to mental hospitals.

Banishment was consistent with her religion, as Roman Catholic hierarchy regularly denies the sacraments to those who displease them. They even claimed the power to either hold open or closed the gates of eternal banishment into hell, which closely resembles a mental hospital ward.

My mother was greatly honored by the archdiocese in which she lived for fifty-five years, even receiving a medal from them for her services to their religion. Though she will probably never be officially canonized, many in her church parish and beyond considered her a saint. I have had to protect myself and my children from her "ministry."

Mama rejected the idea that any of her children who had left the Roman Catholic religion after much abuse at the hands of priests and others of the church, could ever live as "Christians." This meant that she was going to her eternal reward in heaven with her "God" without most of us, and she was okay with that idea. Daddy followed her religion, even as he beat us until we bled to purify us to the standards that Mama thought we should live, as dictated by their religion. He would be in heaven with her, and without most of us. How does a mother live like this?

I accept that my mother's ministry to others sanctified her and brought much peace to those to whom she ministered. I even have flashes of times when, to me, she passed on some of her saintliness.I have flashes of memories of my mother in the kitchen that make me feel at home with her. I still see her joy when her wealthy relations sent clothes that fit me perfectly, and when her wealthy aunt sent her money for a brand new coat for me. We went shopping together, just the two of us, and picked out a black and tan herringbone pattern wool coat with offset large black buttons and a matching scarf. It was so elegant! I see her fitting me for the dresses she made for me the summer I was sixteen, before I went away to a Catholic summer camp in Ashville, North Carolina.

I learned to cook through watching her and made that into a way to make a living. I learned to dress elegantly from watching how she reacted to my attire, and used that elegance to draw much money and other ministry to many worthy causes. I brought up two children who serve others every day of their lives with their open arms and hearts, while still prioritizing their own families. In her eyes, all of this was simply arrogance because I did not attend her church and worship her jealous, vengeful "God."

My avoidance of my mother was not because I didn't see her saintliness; it was because she continually pointed at my father, me, and my siblings as barriers to her perfection in the eyes of her church. "How could such a devout mother have such a non-Christian family?" she would regularly ask of other adherents of her religion. We were simply crosses that increased her suffering with "Jesus." Motherhood was her entry into heaven, with or without her children.

I believe that saintliness is a personal thing that we pass on through service to individuals. I will never understand the inability to see and speak of saintliness in one's own family and friends without it being sanctioned by a bunch of people who never really knew that person. I will also never understand the resistance to singing the praises of those who do righteous things with their lives, while we are never at a loss for words about the evil people perpetrate.

I embarrass many with my enthusiasm for their goodness toward me. They seem to think that any acknowledgement on earth for their efforts somehow diminishes the price that they must pay in this life in order to cleanse themselves for the next. I simply don't understand why anyone would worship, or even acknowledge, a "God" who would make them for such a lousy life.

I don't care who the Roman Catholic Church says are saints; one person's saint was surely, toward many others in their lives, a sinner. Nobody is meant to know how the scales were balanced by each person by the end of their time on earth. I am simply sorry that what I often attempt to do as good makes so many feel so bad. My mother probably felt the same way while she was performing her "holy" water "exorcisms."

Protecting Our Progeny

At his mother's breast, he is infused with The Sacred, and in the reflection of himself in her eyes;
How brutally we rip the male child from her, as if her compassion for him should be despised.
He spends his life seeking another way to have his soul feel, once again, complete,
But those who manipulate his fears, for his strongest allegiances, compete.

Monarchs and gods demand that their subjects scurry to fulfill their every whim;
They make mock of every weakness and whores of their subjects' women.
"Here is your beautiful virtuous wife, covered in my strong animal scent.
You will bow only to my power; I am the god for whom your were both meant."

Their priests pronounce spells that are meant to keep you in the monarch's power;
Their prophets portend doom, if on any other, your affections, you shower.
"You'll not see god in your bond with your woman, and must offer your children
To the destruction of the power that mother earth exerts on her men."

The strength of a man in a woman's loving arms threatens my supremacy;
Your family will be brutally destroyed, if they exalt in anyone but me.
Leave your home to the women and children, as you fight in my wars;
Protecting the kingdom of your "god" is what a man is made for.

Your women and children are born to wait for your triumphal return;
You will strengthen yourself to fight with your passion for them that burns.
The bond of a man and a woman's love is the greatest of earth's strength;
It was this way in the beginning and has been ever since.

Gods don't want wise old women; they want our young children.
At their births, gods begin grooming the child to worship only them.
By age of eight the child's fate is cast, and their fear is greater than
Any bonds that they have formed to their first nurturing woman.

The making of gods on earth through blood sacrifice of our males,
Is the truth in what all our wars, and much of religion, entails.
When will we mothers stand and say, "Take me, but not my son;
There is so much more than your blood sacrifice he is to become."?

When will we mothers take our girls away from their fathers,
Instead of continuing the wretched fate we had as daughters?
If there is to be a blood sacrifice, let it be my own bloody death;
Only then will my own sacred mother spirit be at rest.

Strength of Spirit

I've learned in my spiritual seeking is that kindness requires no creed;
It does require compassion for others' talents, boundaries, and needs.
The fact that I'm not willing to give to you what you want from me,
May be because of some limitation that you aren't able to hear or see.

And if I offer more than you want or need, don't see it as disrespect
It is often that I seek to, from my own painful journey, you protect.
This is not to say that I see you as weaker or less competent than I;
It is often to offer you the understanding and support for which I cry.

Too many see others as too strong and wish to teach them humility;
They don't see the fear of abuse from which their hubris came to be.
Before the age of one, my father beat me, and I turned away from him.
After this time, even my own mother was afraid to be my friend.

I am not truly strong, as are the eldest children in most families.
Each of my parents' families, were, by me, most displeased.
I didn't look like their people and was not a delicate girl child.
They saw me, not as a gift, but one of their own life's trials.

The more they found fault, the more I attempted to learn;
Hoping that my abilities would quiet most of their concerns.
Ability and strength, in a woman was, unbeknownst to me,
Not an attribute that a female should let any suitor see.

I had been taught that sex appeal was desirable, yet sinful;
It was, for "catching" a husband, the trait most desirable.
I've continued, foolishly, opening doors, allowing myself to learn,
Though I know that my increased knowledge is reason to be spurned.

Why do groups of women act as if they all completely agree,
Rather than admit that we don't all, with the same eyes, see?
How hateful it is that there are women who join in rejection,
As if competition with sisters was every woman's predilection.

Don't we know that society can't change and stay the same?
Women continue to follow failed paths and accept no blame.
Praying, dancing, and singing together may build solidarity,
But this only begins our struggle for new ways of community.

A creed without an action plan leaves me rather cold.
How did we become women who expect only men to be bold?
How often our ways of bonding leave our own men out;
Division should not be what family partnership is about.

Humans very physical in the ways they bond with friends.
Women pet and pamper each other and barely touch our men.
Boys ripped too early from gentle caresses from mothers
Are taught shame about any gentleness they show to others.

We don't speak each other's language and laugh together;
Women and men like to be honored and enjoyed as clever.

We are entering an era where women and men communicate;.

We must encourage this behavior before it's too late.

There are few women who will not, from each other, turn away
When their men and children heed what another woman has to say.
Jealousy has been earth's curse since the dawn of humanity;
We will never have peace until, from this emotion, we're free.

Men and women, in separate rooms, for conversation

Is not the way to learn inter-gender communication.

Until strong people stop seeing each other as competition,

Family and community partnerships can't come to fruition

Me In Eternity

The bliss of ignorance, I wished I could, again, embrace;
Perhaps all the pain in my present would then be erased.
I attempted to sleep away all the painful memories;
In dreams, they kept returning, like pain of a chronic disease.

In running from hurt, my demons' strengths increased.
I accepted pain with pleasure, and my running ceased.
I turned and faced the truths of my troubled life,
Not realizing, in my own rebirth, I'd serve as midwife.

I finally stopped running from facing all that I know;
Though remaining alone in my past, causes the pain to grow.
I now accept pain and pleasure as two sides of a coin.
The pain slows me down; the pleasure keeps me going.

I will not seek pain as a cleansing tonic for the soul;
Neither will I feel that only pleasure makes me whole.
I will walk with both of them, as friends on my journey;
Both pain and my pleasure made, and make, me fully me.

I do not believe in karma that continues punishing
Each of us until we're only, in eternal bliss, living.
I do believe all the pain and pleasure that I share
Will continue in the lives of all who, for me, cared.

This is why I attempted to keep, to myself, my pain,
Wanting only pleasant memories of my life to remain.
I have come to understand that those who see my soul
Have always shared in the pain that makes truly me whole.

There is no way that I can ever make amends to them;
They don't expect me to, as they are more than friends.
They are my neighbors, my church, my true family
Those with whom I share The Sacred Spirit in eternity.

The Family of Humanity

Are we to believe all sacred scriptures were already written
Before there was talk of equality between women and men?
The Sacred Spirit that preceded any Jewish definition of God
Surely, didn't with Jesus's Pentecostal coming, get tired.

Do humans accept that The Spirit that exploded into creation
Only spoke to males, denying any fertile female's mediation?
The earth, bearing children of god(s), we're told, is the mother;
Making all of humanity, by birth, equally sisters and brothers.

How did we come to accept that there are god(s) who deny
The children from their own mates? Didn't their mates even try
To correct the jealous, vengeful fathers of all their children,
Rather than, of only the strongest, making special friends?

I will not accept any god(s), because they are egotistical,
Refusing much of the sacred, in which the earth is full.
I prefer to continue sharing with others the everyday sacred
That happens, by accident, with those spiritually naked.

It grieves me that so many are uncomfortable with anger;
Great shows of strength are necessary to ward off danger.
There were so many vulnerable that looked to me for protection,
I have, long-since, sworn to accept religious society's rejection.

Religions masquerade as safe homes of simple community;
How many of them are, from perverse political power, free?
The minute any religion accepts any favors from "government"
The have accepted the seduction of the Garden of Eden's serpent.

The acceptance of a sacred power that began before Genesis
Was not, by humans, before the written word, something to resist.
This power was simply seen as embodied in all of nature;
It was a mistake to believe special humans possessed a cure.

Cures come from spiritual powers manifested in the physical;
I believe that in un-embodied spirits, this, our earth, isn't full.
I believe Jewish Jesus was clear that we must touch each other;
This is the human way to share The Sacred as sister and brother.

The wrong that Abraham and Sarah did to Abraham's first son
Has plagued humanity since shortly after Jewish history was begun.
Isn't it time that we all admit that our ancestors were wrong,
So that the family of humanity can be, against earthly evil, strong?

Finding Family

You have spoken of your frustration that I am unable to accept your vision;
How I experience The Sacred in my life was not my conscious decision.
I cannot pretend that I see truth only in The Triun "God" and in no other;
You see your parents in different lights than do your sisters and brothers.

Does this difference of manifestation mean you aren't related as family?
What you lived with your parents, siblings weren't always around to see.
I've been comfortable all my life in accepting eternal magic in mysteries
Miracles happening all around me, I would save as bubbles of memories.

I can't not experience The Sacred as the smell of new-mown grass,
Or in the prisms of color bouncing off the lake onto plain window glass.
Is there anything more sacred than the look in a vulnerable lover's eyes,
Or the sound of a small baby's laughter, when caught by happy surprise?

The awe that I feel in observing the stars, when there is no other light,
Fills me with a feeling of The Sacred so great, it feels almost like fright.
The time just before and after sleep bring all my loved ones back to me,
In waking dreams so real, they're surely The Sacred Spirit that I see.

I have lost so much to the jealous, vengeful god of my ancestry
Is it any wonder I seek, from this god's sight, to become free?
I am aware of the story that this was the sin of Adam and Eve,
Who did not, in the mercy of their creator-god, believe.

I'm also aware that this is followed by tales of centuries of wrath,
And the birth of a son-god who must suffer for his ancestors' past.
None of these stories are consistent with my belief in awe, not fear,
In manifestations of the mysteries of The Sacred Spirit made clear.

I would like you to understand that I don't choose to be afraid;
I still suffer from things about your god, that to me, as a child, were said.
I've spent years studying and have found that I'm not the only one
Who felt no option, but from fear-fueled religions and gods, to run.

There have been many damning things spread about humanism;
That non-religious humans embody The Sacred meets with derision.
This, from the people who profess that humans are the image of God;
Are they now saying that their first premise of sacred human is flawed?

The Sacred Spirit is accepted as a friend by every small child,
Until shame is introduced and the child's natural faith is reviled.
The pretensions at understanding and limiting what my child saw
Has led me to live, many years, in religious hell's destructive maw.

I had no choice, for survival, but to go back to my baby faith;
This is where, through neglect and abuse, I continued to find grace.
I can't stop feeling betrayed when you hide behind your god's sword,
Not caring I'll be left behind in your interpretation of his word.

How can a mother, sister, or friend accept an eternity of hell
For those they say the love, while on a common earth, we dwell?
How can you continue to accept communion with those
Who have, my inclusion in your family of faith, disposed?

How can you continue to turn a blind eye to my abuses?
Why is it, for my abusers, not I, you make your excuses?
By their fruits ye shall know them; the "Christian" church is rot.
The Sacred Spirit is not their root, and the vine they forgot.

I may grieve forever that I have lost so much human family,
But I could not continue to live in such a state of hypocrisy.
Pain can be purifying when it is not inflicted by others;
Shared joy and suffering is the bond of sisters and brothers.

Those who lock themselves away and suffer only with god,
Gratitude is for god, not toward friends who, with them, plod,
These are not the people who understand being fully human;
As a flawed and vulnerable human, I cannot be their friend.

They seem to want to remain around only those who fear;
Away from those with too much laughter, they continue to steer.
I could not have survived the losses inflicted by their savior,
If I didn't also participate in wildly celebratory human behavior.

I am sorry that your piety includes no raging emotional storms.
I did not, with my emotions and beliefs, intend to do you harm.
I could no longer stay quiet as you embrace those who harm me.
It grieves me that, once more, I find myself looking for new family.

The greatest grief is in my realization that we can never share our most Sacred Spirits;
Unless my manifestations agree with religious dogma, you seem unable to hear it.
The Sacred Spirit existed before Jews began to seek common spiritual ground.
Are we to deny all earthly manifestations, before their religious path was found?

I do adhere to the belief that this was a core message of Jesus,
That community bonding, not on blood, but shared faith, is a must.
I've laughed at so much loss, but I now must openly confess,
I had so hoped I would find a final family home before death.