(repost) Secret Passage (A Song of the South)

This is a poem I wrote in a time I was processing some of the same questions, doubts, and fears we have been talking about Exodus 3 encouraging us to face into and embrace.  I wrote this poem about the ways in which I learned to experience these paradoxically as including gifts.  I hope this poem blesses you.

Your progressive redneck preacher,

Micah

big sister“There’s a secret passageway in grandma’s old room,”

said my same older sister

who once whispered to us tales of ancestors

who came not from the poor pig farmers

on daddy’s family tree

but instead born of a long forgotten prince

who gave up his rich palace for love

leading him to settle on Carolina shores.

 

secret passageLike those quickly disproved fairy tales she weaved

my heart leaped with wonder on this story

imagining my own private wardrobe door

with which I could transport to a world of magic wonder,

my own personal Narnia.

I searched under bed, in closet, and by every wall crease

for light from this secret pathway

until, frustrated with my efforts,

daddy showed us the door which lay

high atop the closet’s ceiling

popping our shimmering bubble of childlike dreaminess

with his ever brooding realism

“There ain’t nothing up there but insulation.

It leads nowhere but the attic”.

 

secret passage 2It took years to realize,

though her facts were off,

my sister’s promise was true:

all along I carried such a door with me,

my own personal transport to new worlds.

I found it on that day my world split open

when tumbling I like Dorothy fell through the rabbit hole

my eyesight gazing deep within.

The well to wonder that opened

to places bigger on the inside

and more full of light

was the shape of the spiderweb of cracks

which had spread

across the shattered glass of a broken heart.

 

Truly broken places

birthed the light of beauty

beckoning me within

where I discover daily

vistas of glory unimaginable.

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