Our culture has an endless fascination with the rich and famous, which becomes especially acute when an iconic star passes away (e.g. Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston…). Last week’s untimely death of pop music star, “Prince” is a case in point. For days, or sometimes weeks, the media is saturated with images of the star, clips of weeping fans, tributes from other celebrities, intrigue about the facts surrounding their death, a sudden burst of interest in their catalog from decades ago, often times revisionist retrospectives of their body of work, a slow parade of alleged insiders who claim to have some new tidbit of information, and sometimes even a star-studded funeral to send them off. We tend to view their life through the lens of their glorious accomplishments and their vast renown; but I would suggest that more often than not they pass from this life broken and alone. The myth of fame and fortune is stripped bare by death. I doubt seriously that anyone has ever asked that their gold records, or Grammy award, or Oscar, or Olympic Medal be brought to their bedside as they face their final minutes. Ultimately, the quality of a life isn’t defined by its shiniest moments, but by those day to day instances when no one is looking. In the end, it will be about who we have loved, and who has loved us. The piece that follows is something I wrote years ago to portray the emptiness of such an existence. For me, fame and fortune is like this hollow mansion.
*
Hollow Mansion
*
My eyes flick open to the dim light of the pre-dawn morning
and my head throbs with the dull ache of the night before
There is a beautiful woman lying beside me
but I find myself straining to remember her name
When she wakes, I’ll have to pretend that last night meant something to me
but for now, I couldn’t be more alone
*
As I stare at the ornate ceiling of this massive room
I can see all the cracks along its edges
They not only speak of the sandy soil on which this estate was built
they testify to the weak foundation of this new life that I have established
While everyone else’s eyes are naturally drawn to the beautiful gold trim
all I can see is the fractured façade
While they all seem to notice the extravagant furnishings in each room
I find myself focusing on the vast empty space created by every high ceiling
*
These thoughts take me back to the water stained ceiling of my childhood bedroom
and I find myself wondering whatever became of that little boy
I also remember lying awake in a little trailer, many years ago
wondering how I was going to support my young bride & our new baby
Back then, paying the bills was my greatest struggle
but now that those debts are more than covered, I’m struggling with the price that was paid
*
I’d trade everything I’ve gained to erase the hurt and confusion in my children’s faces
as I pulled our family apart on the way to making my own dreams come true
I’d give it all back for the woman who loved me
when I had nothing to offer other than a desire to share her life
I’d gladly forfeit the drafty halls of this hollow mansion
for the warmth of the place that I used to call home
I’ve finally figured out that it’s better to have one person who loves you for who you really are
than to have ten thousand who love the person they imagine you to be
*
Unfortunately, by the time I came to understand this, it was too late
As the raging waters of my desire had already swept away any moorings for a bridge back
So as the first rays of the sun begin to creep across the windows
I swallow a couple of painkillers to prepare for the day that lies ahead
And as the beautiful stranger lying next to me stirs from her sleep
I push my face into a smile and utter, “Good morning darling”
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Fingerprints
Posted in Commentaries, Free Verse / Poetry, tagged fingerprints, justice, sense of significance on July 26, 2017| Leave a Comment »
In the deepest part of our hearts – we all yearn to be loved, and each of us comes with the capacity to give love in return. We instinctually draw together in relationship with each other, and gather ourselves into communities.
And yet somehow we struggle to believe that we come from a God who embodies love, and who yearns to be in relationship with us.
In the deepest part of our hearts – we all yearn for justice, and each of us comes with an inherent sense of when that justice has been violated. Even as small children, no one has to teach us to cry out, “It’s not fair!”
And yet somehow we struggle to believe that we come from a God who embodies justice, and who would demand a price for sin.
In the deepest part of our hearts – we all yearn for shelter from the storm, and comfort in times of trouble. Something within us inherently knows to run for cover, and to seek a place of refuge.
And yet somehow we struggle to partake of God’s Spirit, who stands ready to manifest Himself as the “Comforter”, and who offers a peace that surpasses our understanding.
In the deepest part of our hearts – we all yearn for a sense of significance, and of belonging. It is within our very nature to fight wars, to fly banners, and to adorn ourselves in accolades, in order to establish our place in this world.
And yet somehow we struggle to believe that we were created in the image of God, and that we were meant to be the heirs of His Kingdom.
In the deepest part of our hearts – we all yearn to believe in something that is bigger than ourselves, and that is beyond what we can understand. From the beginning we are drawn to fairy tales, magic, legends, the depths of the ocean, heroes, outer space, Sci-Fi… or anything else that might carry us beyond the boundaries of what we have known.
And yet somehow we struggle to accept a God whose ways are much higher than ours and who can do abundantly more than we could ever ask for, or imagine.
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