The Self We Share

Thirst is angry with water. Hunger bitter with bread. The cave wants nothing to do with the sun. This is dumb, the self- defeating way we've been. A gold mine is calling us into its temple. Instead, we bend and keep picking up rocks from the ground. Every thing has a shine like gold, but we should turn to the source! The origin is what we truly are. I add a little vinegar to the honey I give. The bite of scolding makes ecstasy more familiar. But look, fish, you're already in the ocean: just swimming there makes you friends with glory. What are these grudges about? You are Benjamin. Joseph has put a gold cup in your grain sack and accused you of being a thief. Now he draws you aside and says, 'You are my brother. I am a prayer. You're the amen.' We move in eternal regions, yet worry about property here. This is the prayer of each: You are the source of my life. You separate essence from mud. You honor my soul. You bring rivers from the mountain springs. You brighten my eyes. The wine you offer takes me out of myself into the self we share. Doing that is religion.