Motivation to Write
The world is crumbling. You see it, maybe some of the others see it, but you are not sure. You see the Church crumbling, you see St. Francis holding up the pillars, you see the face of Samson as he brings them down upon the Philistines, you see the pain in his face, the tears running down his cheeks as the bricks crumble down and he wishes there had been some other way. You see the war in the eyes of neighbors and friends. You see it in the wickedness of your own heart. You see the light and the dark. The seven headed dragon roars. Love is in his path.
And you want to scream. It’s like that dream, the night terror played out over and over where you are paralyzed, strapped to the table helpless as the devil leans over you with the scalpel, as he leans over all of Love with the blade. You want to scream, “No!” You want to tear the sword from the hands of the evil ones and you want to swing it like a knight in shining armor, but your limbs are broken and when you finally break into a whisper, no one is listening. No one.
You want to raise your hand. You want to stand up and tell the teacher the real lesson that no one ever learned in between the recess jabs and the insecurity. You want to teach how it takes three generations to heal but only one to hurt. You want to just ask everyone to be careful. You want a moment of silence. Everyday you read the news hoping that the President or the counter-revolutionaries have finally said something to bring Peace. You want the next Gandhi. You wish you could be the next Gandhi. You wish God could send down Jesus Christ in the second coming and get it over with. You wish everyone would just love, and heaven would finally be realized on earth. You weep at the sad song because it is every song, every day, every moment. Everything matters, nothing matters, it’s all the same. You are heartbroken.
You wish you had no reason to write.
