THE CHOSEN

[David Sparenberg]

The chosen will not be chosen
through some grand and mystic mystery:
a golden cloud will not descend
celestial trumpets not sound
the awaited mothership of
ancient alien ancestry
will not arrive, nor
the hum of rapture happen.

It will be all so very quiet
so intimately tearful
so much in “breath”
so very simple

One by one
the chosen will wake up;
they will come to their senses
while drinking from an earthen cup
or standing in a small garden.
When herbs in dew infuse the morning
they will experience the pure
defining difference
between madness and sanity.

With contrition on
their lips—seeking forgiveness
for that which they did not do—
the chosen will love creation
and walk lightly on the earth, sustained
in the choice of belonging.

Then the chosen will know one another
through that which they refuse
to do and that which they
refuse to be.

As we move together
through the passage of the shadow of time
let me ask you these questions:
What do you refuse
to do? Who do you refuse to be?

David Sparenberg
12 August 2010

[Eva Libre]

thank you David, for the generous sharing of your poetry with us.