Rootsie

So here's what it all comes down to,
Easter 4.20.03:
it all comes down to me
        you see.
So not only isn't it
        all about you
        in reality
it's all about me.
 
        be what I know I am
        be what I dream I am
        be what I say I am
                   I am.

This ain't no Ayn Rand philosophy,
throwin my ego around carelessly,
because what I am exists in unity,
what I am is One:
the only way to see there is no 'me'
is by makin it all about me.

I am here to reveal my identity:
rootsie rasta cynthia yemenja
and none of these-please bear with me,
allow I to explain-
like everything in nature,
exquisite and singular,
and one among a myriad,
a single thread that completes the tapestry,
and myself complete,
creation expressing itself endlessly-
I see everything
relative to me
so I am in relation with everything I see:

all my relations.
Earth Sky and Sea.

If I'm all about me,
you can be all about you.
We tread so light this way,
we bring no disturbance,
no calamity.
Disturbance is the sign
I'm not toein the line:
        like they say no way to be disturbed
        if you are livin in the Word.

We are Word made flesh
and we dwell among each other
and we deal strictly here
with the remission of sins-
it makes us squirm,
but we are here to forgive
and be forgiven endlessly
so that one of the Names
can be Mercy,
the tapestry woven seamlessly.
Nothing without reason-
without reason what are we?
And without mind and heart in synchrony?
As you see. This heedless absurdity,
gumming ourselves all up in each other
needlessly.
War, famine, and poverty.

I'm not all gummy
if it's all about me.
I am slick and slippery,
frictionless,
effortless.

If the Christians were christian,
if the peaceniks wanted peace,
the warriors freedom's guardians,
queens queenly, kings kingly,
priests priestly, ministers ministerial,
presidents presidential...

but you know the funny thing is,
           the oppressors ARE oppressive,
           the beasts beastly,
           the butchers bloody.
In our stupidity
           we feed THEM faithfully-
you get me?
Our collective nightmare stalks the earth
because we choose this.

"Forgive them
               they know not
                                what they do..."
just does not cut it anymore.

We can know what we do
because we can see
what we have done.
Notice I say 'can', a choice,
and the obvious one,
when it's all about me.