Sunday, September 16, 2007

82707

Rain has returned with a vengeance. The old man went to the deli for a sandwich and no mustard. He gets home, a few blocks walk, unwraps & settles down with his pbr. Mustard. & yes he returns.

I attended a deeply moving religious service this past weekend. A number of the guys in my unit have stressed the fact “John, you’d love it”. So I promised I would attend & sure enough, a few hours before I started getting sick. So by ½ hour before we were to leave I had a fever. Sick to my stomach dread. It’s not that I don’t love to attend services. It’s that emotion that ran bloody feeling. Everyone, I mean everyone, is draped in the power of love of brother/sisterhood. Of the Holy Spirit. Of Christ. & I collapse. Too much I plead. Too much my heart breaks . Pleads for all this pain to go away. I go there with an older brother. A nice cool walk. Time to think. Time to compose. To relax. He’s a comfort. He seems to understand & sure enough, the moment we walk in we hear the singing of joy. The crushing of sadness. Redemption. Demanding destiny. The choir. Barely making it to our seats. All I can think “Oh my God, Please get me thru this”. The singing. Packed service. I’ve never seen so many men singing joyful. I start to relax. Everyone filled. Then my eyes find him right ahead. Sitting. Head in his hands. The telltale swipe of hand across the eyes. Fuck! Ambushed. My heart bolts. My eyes deceive me. The heaviness sets in The closest I got to this before my incarceration was watching Johnny Cash. Hearing Johnny Cash. Folsum Prison. There is no possible way to describe the feelings. The emotions. The core heart broken sadness. Without a doubt this a room filled. Packed. Stuffed. Every possible crime. Every possible heinous crime. Every thing wrong with mankind except there are no politicians. No representatives of the Bush administration. & as far as I know, no serial killers though plenty of killers. Anyway, a room of evil & all I feel is love. Forgiveness Redemption. & singing. The service is wonderful. Rejuvenating. Blessing. We end with Amazing Grace. Yep. Bring it all home mama! Bring it all home!

We leave, air crystal clear. A mellow thinking walk in the yard. But we’re definitely feeling loose silly. Alright. Needless to say, home fry – resident knucklehead – says & does something stupid & we all laugh. Luis kicks him in the butt & figure what the hell. Yeah, this is prison, not the end of the road. Circles are a terrific symbol. If you’re not looking you have no idea of the beginning of the end.
“No the circle, won’t be broken by & by, Lord, by & by”

No comments: