It's a difficult spell to speak, the way a flower may perish.

I watch
the older members of my family
decay with breath still in them.
Expired with will at function
fighting off disease
to find disease to be triumphant.
I feel for these people,
these who withdrew, who
banished their homeland
in order to avoid World War.
To get on a rotting boat,
with a child barely at walk
and a womb at full bloom
(who would born to be my Mother).
My God,
he is applicable here.
To work restless days, laying down stone,
building magnificent homes
and coming home to the most humbled of them.
Decades it took for they
to learn the new native language,
and still,
they struggle bitterly with it.
These people who came here empty,
in total craving of a promised land.
Never did they succumb to modern society
clinging to their land by heart and moral by attitude;
these people
did take up god,
hard.
these strong people, who abolished I,
and my most intimate of relatives
with years of excommunication
and excrement disposition
when my Mother had, with peace,
chosen against the church.

I love her to death for doing this.

These poor people
who had to reinvent the hardship in their life
by way of Fake Ultimate Salvation: I swear
I could not tolerate this behavior in myself.
My children,
though unborn,
will always have my word.
My soul would depend on it.

Well, womb begone.
These
grand
people.
What do you even feel about life?
You who are invented by tradition,
a lifestyle full of emotion, and hostility.
I'm sure I understand the making of your generation,
truly, you were born at desperate times
fashioning yourselves as the stone you did lay, but listen,
I have been born on impulsive ground.
I have within my grasp
THE BLINKING WEST.
You must understand, though without speak of it,
all these changes in the world and why I must
be different from you.

I have my grandfather's sense of adventure
without the hysterical wife
who shut herself from the planet outside her door.
Who had to settle with permanence,
the only acceptable reason to wander the outside world
was in worship of the lord.

And for you people in between them
and I:
Shame on your respect.
Never has a single moral
been at clearance to fall.
The three of them going off to school,
My Mother at times taking, and fleeing with
her younger brother,
the oldest one staying
to take the beating.
Never have I seen such repressed people
as the children of my grandparents.
They are practically
inspiring
that they may live these stiff lives,
filled with small happiness yet cast
on the foundation of illness,
and a week planned
around church.
I see their lost souls accepting weakness
that they may fear their lord
and have reason to prey.
I see them at break
and I am broken for them.

Do they truly believe?
I do not doubt their sincerity.

I do know one who lives against his will
with the standards of religion
to be with the love of his life, my favorite of the bunch,
his wife, my aunt,
a soul of genuine kindness.
Who had a shattered heart
within the walls of ex-communication
a heart she did let break
and considered every pain.
Who has the warmest
of all voices.
Who carries peacefulness
with her throughout.
She does possess beauty,
though she follows her community.
She does find happiness
in her life of small happiness.
During the years of disown
I have sensed her suffering:
let us forget who they are Now
for we will have to abandon their souls
completely on the Day of coming Judgment.

I have cried in laughter.

This night, I have heard of further illness,
hence my thoughts of them.
Cancer,
back, the both of them.
My Mother thinks the woman who bore her
to be the strongest on earth
though I have asked her to consider
the way she has attacked her body
at the sights of her husband dying.

I look at them and grave.
I have no sense of guilt for my actions against their values,
but I would have to be emotionless
if I did not find compassion:
it is here, and it is here deeply.

I am most curious to watch my young cousins grow up.
Which ones will stick and which
will revolt.
I will be a friend to these babies and children
who wish to discover the world.

I am further rooted in the concepts of Earth
then what I was taught, once upon a time,
to avoid at all costs.
I, now, am more "worldly" then many
of the worldly people I was sworn to fear.
And I know know why they are afraid.
The world is exhilarating.
I would wish it upon my every creation,
and my every enemy both.
I have fallen for the world.
She truly is infatuating.

I reflect and wonder how radical and judging
I can so easily be
of my extended family.
Those who have shared with me
nothing but
blood.
And yet,
when I do go
and search out this WORLD
I have immediate tenderness
a true sense of discovery, that simply,
I have come out here
to discover.
To find somebody to grow close with
to truly absorb
somebody who could become either story
of perfect stranger or soulmate.

I do not leap to an irrational judgment of them,
sorry.

Though I suppose it will be the world herself to Judge
these God-fearing people at their Final Day (the rest of us will live on, untouched)
for their rejection they will, in return, be gifted with rejection.
They may not die knowing this,
but at life reflection,
they will surely remember.

God will, absolutely, eclipse your every gland of euphoria
and infuse your every chemical
and send you TRIPPING,
My lord! You've been right all this time.

And when I die I will float peacefully
back into another consciousness,
understood?

What a precious grip of my emotions
all this is.
Soft and equally sullen,
though I realize at these stirrings
that in my life I have been shaken.

These people have taught me to remove,
God bless them.