Yada: The Wound of our Knowledge

Yada: The Wound of our Knowledge (in appreciation, for Steven Garber)
“If you know, you care; if you don’t care, you don’t know.” S.Garber

  1. Does theology matter,
    or do anything?
    Or mean anything
    to matter
    to anything
    or anyone?
    Do we need it
    anyway
    for anyone
    to mind it
    at any time?
    Does it do anything?
  2. Since so much
    depends upon
    the nexus
    between knowledge
    and responsibility,
    knowing and doing;
    since our survival
    depends upon
    our truths being true
    to the way the world
    actually is,
    why we continue
    even when everything
    that might be done
    is still undone,
    and why when words
    become flesh
    we step in
    and begin
    to know
    and finally see
    what love
    will ask of us,
    and to find
    it is more
    than we are able
    to give.
  3. To know is to care
    to remember
    the telos of life
    to do what we know
    in love.
  4. I am not
    what I could be,
    nor will be,
    until He makes me
    as he wills and is.
  5. Our names
    are hidden
    on the inverse
    curvature of the earth’s horizon
    which disintegrates
    with each stroke of the rower’s oar
    whose name is not known.
    A Great White was tagged
    and named Mary Lee
    and was spotted near our shore today.Ever-receding
    with each [shudder] of strength and oar
    the alphabets of our names
    tumble with abandon
    seemingly random re-organizing
    across the rim of visible space
    spelling catastrophe
    of immeasurable magnitude
    when these waters covered our earth
    our home our names
    now rewritten in a cursive
    of love we do not yet know,
    names written on a stone
    hidden in the heart of the sea
    beyond the cold arc of the sun
    burning like white steel
    hot and blinding letters
    too scorching to touch or say
    we watch for when
    they will be known
    letter by letter
    pronounced with thunder and rain
    and with no more sorrow nor melancholia.
  6. I longed
    for my children
    to know the world,
    but also to care.
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