We are not allowed to choose who we love
even if we so desperately choose
to believe we can.
And sometimes it is hard to justify love
in an environment where God is a falsehood
or only an advertisement.
But love is still there, eternally.
Through the saturation of modern daily life
love still manages to appear,
with its meek and apprehensive face,
and shine down upon those who are mostly unaware
or at least pretend to be.
It's raining. It's been raining all day,
but the flowers are all out in full bloom.
Anyone who believes we are no longer affected
by the primordial muck that is true nature
is a fool. I know this because it is springtime
once again. It is a very beautiful and violent season
in our yearly cycle; truly an awakening of our senses.
I hold no sentimental thoughts for it,
but always appreciate it for its visceral gusto
of being, of once again growing
and again giving life to this eternal cycle
that I, as many, take for granted far too often.
This wet grass, these tulips and daffodils,
that broken birdhouse, the turquoise Mazda truck
rusting at the wheel well across the alley,
this notebook I am writing in; struggling
to keep flat in the wind that continues to blow
in a gentle, yet demanding way.
These chalk grey skies.
We know them and sometimes suspect
they will never go away.
Then, eventually, the sun shines once again.
Then, you find yourself encountering
the thing you need to encounter,
even if you didn't know you needed
to encounter it.
This is a sermon for the godless,
the flawed, the thoroughly human,
who do not know why they care, but still do.
Confusion is a virtue you can work with.
Aaron C. Molden