America
I remember when I told my mother I was coming to America. She laughed uproariously, almost joyously; thought it was really funny. Besides, she said, you have no money. My family always returned to the European Metropole, but that’s so parochial; my soul fought it. I sought a new and brighter place, where there were people of my race, dark like treacle and lighter too, every hue imaginable. Wonderful, incredible; I’d be invisible. A first; certainly couldn’t be worse, that’s for sure. I wanted something more. And so I came to learn the game in the Land of Milk and Honey, where it’s always sunny and there’s plenty of money. America, the land of gold and flesh; young and fresh is liked the best. It’s a bold, cold reality far from the immortality that YWVH had in mind; in fact a much darker paradigm. America the Rich Bitch. The Alpha Male, the scale by which the rest comes next. The apex; the nexus; Capitalism at its best; obsessed; radicalism recessed, regressed, redressed; the Pleasure dome, my earthly home. Love is hardly found, but hate is all around and sex abounds. Schism and gysum with a mix of Puritanism. A beautiful mutable, lurid, torrid, mural; dark and stark and hard of heart. Having been here well over half my life, I can laugh at the strife in it, the knife in it, the smell of it, the swell of it, the deep well of it, and say come what may, I’m just like the rest; more or less. I coast through, seeing the old in the new. Mixing, switching, blending, surrendering, a verbal chameleon; a changeling, who fits right in; a strange thing really. Not all are blessed like me. I acculturated and came to see that all ways are one; we just want to get our groove on. Can’t we all just get along? We have the power; the hour is right now, but our light is dim. How to make it bright again, depends on the choices we make; the voices we take to heart when we’re listening in the dark and pain. We’re all passengers on this train. Who’s driving? No jiving, we all need to heed and take a stand; lend a hand. We can rule the Earth School properly, or continue sloppily, putting us all in jeopardy. Understand, this is part of God’s Plan. It’s not chaotic in the least; that would speak of the Beast. Our soul is a mosaic of many parts, a hymn of many hearts ; all shards from the Mirror of Binah, to give us reflection on how to live, to provide introspection; a guide and protection to those who embrace the wide expanse of space, and without a second glance, they dance, breathless, deathless and touch the Face of Endless Grace.
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