I almost said, “My body has betrayed
me.” This disease I never thought
of possessing me. I hesitate such
an accusation, such a causality
between the unknown and the known.
How rarely what I know has fit
the facts and, further off the mark,
the truth which may lie concealed
for a long time. I’ll not waste myself
concocting reasons by some pretzel
logic. I still say with God, “I will be
as I will be” satisfied with that integrity
of ambiguity and responsiveness
to what is and what is not.
It’s hard to say this is a gift
but I am at the brink of those
words. And curses, also, which
I hurl like angry prayers in defiance
of any answer. So I have been
given something not to be overcome,
impossible to ignore and to which
I refuse to give any pity to – I am no
victim of anything. Of course, I think
of Jesus – betrayal, arrest, sentence,
passion, crucifixion, resurrection.
There is a correlation – this is what life
gives. Of the six acts which claim
the last of his life, I can claim five
with certainty. Damn near a twin,
I remind myself.