The Fifth Day: Okaima

I wonder at times if you see me through beautifying lenses, then at other times i wonder why you see me at all. I am one in seven billion; stubborn and imperfect, choosing constantly to stay on the side of evil. Why do you still see me? Why are you mindful of me? What do you want from me? Surely there must be somebody else. Some one more deserving of your love and attention. Some one more willing to learn at your feet. Who am I that you choose not to let unteachable me burn at the stake readied by her unwillingness to take corrections?

I push and you pull. 

I run constantly running in circles. I run out and search and find nothing. My insides are burrowed out as I try to fill the void I have searched to fill all my life. I have tried to fill it with everything except you, tried and failed again and again. Then I run around in more circles, searching and hoping but finding only disappointment. But you are at the centre of my confusion, in the midst of my hopelessness you are there. Holding a light for me, keeping my place by your side, longing for me to come home. Calling to me; sometimes quietly, softly and with love. Other times you call out with all the anger and frustration you must feel at watching me constantly bash my head against the wall. You call out with the sadness that burns deep in you as you watch me drink my blood to quench my thirst, ignoring the rest and satisfaction you offer me.

I push and you pull. 

I am undeserving of this love. I see the light and I see all you have for me by your side. I see and I want it. My body moves towards you and I reach out for it. I have been at this for so long and I want rest. I need you. Then I look again at myself through the mirror I constantly carry. I see the filth and the blood on my hands; I see my disobedience and my unwillingness. My grumbles echo in my ears and my black heart matches my black skin. The charcoal on my feet is even blacker, feet I constantly walk with into iniquity. I see all that and I see the place of gold you have kept for me and I wonder who I am to have all that. I wonder who you are and I want to ask you if you are crazy or blind or just crazy.

I push and you pull.

I need to wash off this dirt; I cannot come in to your presence with all this. There is this load tied to my back and it stinks, I cannot pollute your palace with this stench that has become me. I need to get myself clean. I need some of this dirt off because you should never see me like this. How can I look you in the eye with all of this? You have a place for me and you want me a little closer  but  that is because you do not know, you do not see. If I come close and you see this, you will turn away. The saints and the chosen in your presence will cover their faces at the sight of me. I need to find water so I can wash off some of this me from me.

I push and you pull.

Then when I do that, I will follow the light you have kept on for me for twenty two years, I will follow it till I am close enough. Not too close. Then with my face to the ground I have to tell you who I am. Maybe you were misinformed; maybe my name got mixed up with someone else’s. I have to tell you why I have turned away from all the help you have sent my way, I have to tell you why I have been unresponsive to all your calls and even your anger, I have to make you understand that I do not deserve a place at your table. Then because I know a little, I can help you with names of people more deserving, those not as dirty, those worthy to be used by you. I have to tell you who I am, make you understand that I am not the person you think I am. I was not deceived, I was not ignorant.  All this blackness and blood you see on me I put it there by myself. I saw good and I saw evil and I made a choice.  I have to make you see that i am unworthy to be minded by you.

I push you, who happens to be me, and you, who are me, pull…..

 

Who am I?

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4 responses to “The Fifth Day: Okaima

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