Humble Men

There is a resonance inside of me that is tapped into a deep knowing. It's nature makes me certain I lived through some kind of religious persecution in another life. Whenever I see this kind of scene played out in movies or literature my whole being is on fire with a full range of feelings - but anger is not among them anymore. Lately I am able to instead, feel Grace and forgiveness.  Still the ones who have been moved against by men wrapped in ecclesiastical garments must have a voice from this heart. From this soul.

This is a darker piece of writing than I usually offer, but it is no less part of the Dragon's Eye View.

Namaste,

Cassandra

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Vow-bound priests

Seek out the ones

That taint their sanctified rites

And blaspheme the halls they erect

To anoint only the chosen worthy.

The cherished few step up

A swirl of frankincense and roses

Disguises hearts twisted with greed, envy and fear.

Stand guard against those tainted ones

Whose sin is wearing poverty

Mysteriously knowing Grace beyond

Their rules and churches.

The long-robed ones march in file

Push poor beggars to the dungeons.

The grand Inquisitor dons his hat and robe

Wields his scepter over the bowed heads

Of the condemned.

Guilty before the opening gavel cracks,

There is no justice

No truth

Where self-righteousness is king.

Eclipsing God

Placing Terror and Need above.

They are shamed before the clean mirror of

Humble men who they claim

Are fit only to mop the floors.

They cannot touch the altar with their chapped hands

Nor kiss the foot of the Lord with their bleeding lips

Nor lay flower garlands around that glorious throat.

The Inquisitor Priest smiles grimly when he

Lays down the sentence

Burn them!

Burn them from this earth!

He believes he is doing God’s work

Fool that he is.

He has missed the fact that

The Lord Himself has

Opened the doors to set the inmates free.