Lover and Beloved, Who Knows Who’s Who?
Tweets For the Beloved
Good Day, Dear Wonder Child Blog Readers,
Here is an offering of some recent tweets I’ve posted on
my twitter feed (Joseph Anthony @ thewonderchild). These find me in a very
devotional mood. Maybe it’s Hurricane
Sandy coming here to Philly, maybe it’s the autumn, it doesn’t need a reason
really, it’s just longing for the Beloved.
These tweets are about that.
***
***
Beloved, from the first day I heard your voice my head
has been spinning.
Now I stumble around, like a drunk, lost in the melody you
sing.
***
Beloved, you have been singing in me ever since I can
remember. I try to sing along,
but end up drunk from just listening.
***
On the eve of a hurricane I find myself repeating the
Beloved’s name. Not out of fear.
I am just reminded that his love can be like a storm.
***
***
The Beloved roams the dark forest of my soul, leaving a
trail of votive candles
along the path leading to his chambers.
***
***
“What am I supposed to do,” I ask, “drop
everything to listen to you sing?”
“No,” you say, “Just everything that keeps
you from dancing.”
***
***
The Beloved moves within me, his robe dusting away the self-pity
and shame
from the floor of my mind, clearing a space for us to
talk alone.
***
***
Why is it I long to be with you, to listen to you sing,
and yet keep adding
more and more distractions, more and more noise to keep
me away?
***
Every now and again, something breaks within me, and I
weep, dazzled.
Then I realize,
Beloved, it’s just you, trying to get my
attention.
***
***
Beloved, I know you want me to play, to have fun, to
rejoice, to sing. I also know
there is a time to drop my toys and follow you home.
***
It seems everything I do is just pretending I’m not
listening. The fact is I hear you,
I know you’re calling. I know you only want me home.
***
***
Inexplicable, unbelievable, unimaginable–it makes no
sense:
You have been singing to me all these years, never tiring, always
full of love.
***
I see the golden leaves fade to brown, see the aging
person in the mirror. And then
I think of you Beloved, and I weep, wanting to come home.
***
***
Lover, Beloved…when we’re together, I forget who’s who.
***
Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog