Vessels and Mules

Behold, thy King cometh unto thee… sitting upon an a*s ~Matthew 21:5 

Mary, at a tender age  

Was picked to carry  

A god in her womb 

Loyal to the end 

She wept for Him 

When His broken body  

Was laid in the tomb 

Men, like donkeys were 

Summoned, fetched 

To carry holiness on their  

Unworthy backs 

Now, some Muse  

Eager to get her  

Message through  

Dictates while I write 

Like a dim, slow 

Reluctant scribe 

Self-satisfied with  

My lot in life 

She tells me  

She's a goddess  

Through and through 

But, I’m an empty vessel 

A stiff-necked mule 

And, in Her divine hands 

I’m a but a witless tool

Reviews

[Lorry]

I think I've met your muse, or perhaps that is just their way, as they direct us by prodding their heels into us to move where they want to go. And I'm sure that high-heels with spurs on are just a fashion statement and not chosen to add to our suffering.
Perhaps if we just comply fully with them they won't feel the need to prod us so much, or perhaps cynical me sees they would find other, more painful ways to a(muse) themselves 😉

[Laz K.]

Hah, great comments, thanks. The truth is, of course, that it takes two to tango, i.e. sometimes one wants to be "overpowered" by the "muse."

[barleygirl]

I'm a little bit afraid to interpret this poem becuz it won't be very complimentary to those who define their lives by staid religiosity. I get the feeling you are saying that those who cling to rigid dogma may be unable to grasp the unlimited & unfathomable array of spiritual phenomena & energy available to us if we are open to the universe & letting all possibilities speak to our hearts. I love this message, even if I may have misinterpreted along my own proclivities (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[light and ashes]

Hmmm.....a Catholic piece?

[Laz K.]

A piece...

[light and ashes]

Hmmm..ok, then.