Isa spoke first, then Ken arranged the readings of Myths by many different people..
Then we separated to write:
These are my Myths
"God said to Abraham,"Kill me a son,
and Abe said no, and God said What?.... down on Hwy 61".
The Blood covered face of Christ, a crown of thorns.
Beaten, humiliated, and nailed to a cross,
then hung up among thieves,
This is my God.
The one who died for me,
and the only one I knew as a child.
I know Jesus was the son who the Father
(all images of men)
gave to us to save us from our sins,
but surely all can see that it didn't work.
He died in vain and his Dad was nuts for killing his only son.
Surely God should have been able to see
the mess we have created through the centuries?
OR as Borges speculated:
The world was created by an infant God,
who long ago lost interest in it,
and ever since it has run on by itself.
These are my antecedents to the non-meaning,
the world in which I found myself growing up.
Now I suspect more of life,
thanks to the gentleness of my wife and
the twenty-four years we spent together,
as her patience allowed the space for me
to see myself over and over again
making the same mistakes, then,
blaming her for my uncomfortableness,
until finally I could learn to respect her
for who she was and not
who I wanted her to be.
Which is where I found some respect for myself.
In the day to day, simple, nothing happening life,
I started seeing my constant criticism
of everything and everyone before it got
into the world through my mouth,
and the feedback from this new un-assaulted world,
began to give me some peace, and even some smiles.
Until last month when my wife Maureen explained
that I no longer created any violence in her,
and she was confronted by the unresolved
problems of her previous marriage.
This is my most cherished validation, and
even though I can clearly see I've just begun,
I stand on the firm ground of knowing that
I treat my wife as I want to be treated.
Kurt E. Heyl
4/20/08
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