Musings of an ancient wounded healer after a lifetime of listening

This is a picture of Mark and I on Wednesday at the Brew Kettle. We brew our own beer every year for Christmas gifts. This is our 13th year of doing it.

Hope you enjoy the poem below!!! I have posted this on here before....It is one of my very favorites and resonates with me so much!!!!
Namaste,
Michele

Musings of an ancient wounded healer after a lifetime of listening

Were I Godde I would dive
into the darkest shadows
of being human,
into profound pain,
outrageous loss,
unbearable suffering,
embracing all the tears and the joy I could find,
and I would swim towards Light taking with me
as much of the brokenness everywhere and of all time
as I could gather.
Were I Godde I would live in despair and in hope.
I would be  the inspiration of a poem,
the rainbow, the dew on the grass,
the color of fall, the gentle breeze,
the kind word, the tender touch,
the laughter of children.
I would abide in every flower,
every seed, every cry and sigh,
I would be the possibility of  each new moment.
I would be weakness finding strength,
never lording it over others,
but in every humble service,
pitching my tent among the poor,
preferring the outsiders.
I would nestle in vulnerability:
risking and giving Self.
Were I Godde I would hide
so subtly within all creation
that I could never be caught.
I would be so unutterable
as to resist being talked about,
and hate the name "God"
remembering the oppression
done in my name.
I would exist beyond any word
any symbol, any possible expression,
but I would dwell in every human groan.
I would avoid expected places:
some pulpits, rituals, churches.
I would never be snared
by theology, religion or even prayer.
No sacred book, system or creed could capture
or contain Me-- my incomprehensible awful immensities.
I would exist solely to be given away,
with heart not mind,
never to be comprehended or
held by safe orthodoxy:
far more verb than noun.
I would be yearning for freedom,
passion for justice, thirsting for peace,
searching for truth, craving for affirmation,
ardor for sharing, the making of love,
and the ecstasy of surrender.
I would be in every form of hurting
and its transcendence.
I would be gleamed in lowly favors, generosity,
courage, simplicity, compassion
but especially in forgiveness.
I would be aborning ever new
in the bruised and lonely heart.
I would be found more in doubt than in certainty
more in questioning than in righteousness.
I would need to be intimately concealed
because the human ego is so ready to use Me
to elevate itself by judging others.
I would despise the use of presumed truths about
Me to divide the human race, for every sectarian purpose.

Were I Godde I would enjoy leaving clues, riddles
and traces everywhere, being tracked only
by valiant searchers.
I would glory in the incompleteness  of my creatures
and all of my creation, knowing that the human spirit
I sustain could triumph over any human mess
and bring love and equity even as I do,
out of chaos.
I would luv (sic) transforming futility.

I would let myself be glimpsed in sunrises and sunsets
in the wonders of nature planet earth
--ship and voyager--
cosmic immensities
galaxies and darkness,
in human loving,
yearning and striving,
in quiet stillness and
becoming little
in EVERY human story.

Christmas, 1991,1997.1998 Paschal Bernard Baute