I just got back from a five day retreat that we like to call Spring Break Camp. Intense scripture study, awesome community, good food, a zip-line -- it was quite a week. This year, I and 13 other students walked through a series of scriptural texts, documentaries, and conversations in order to learn about the history of gender relations. To say the least, it was emotionally intense. I had my heart broken for the sheer breadth of the chasm between how men and women should interact and how they actually do interact. Sometime soon, I hope to collect some of the lessons from this past week into a post, but for now I want to share a poem written in the midst of emotional distress. My heart was broken after watching a film called Miss Representation, and in the midst of my tears, I asked God to help me write something to distill the emotion of that night. This collection of thoughts is what came out, and to me it is a way for me to re-enter the emotions I experienced that night.
When did innocence die?
Not the bend of the bough
Nor the snap of the branch
Nor the bite of the fruit.
No
It was a gleam in the eye and the silence of a man
The first crack in the glass
He looked into the mirror
The reflection gazed back
And together they whispered:
"I am like God."
When did innocence die?
There's a monster in the glass
But I am like God!
He has a scar on his face
But I am like God
His smile is crooked
I am like God?
A hammer in his hand
I am like God!
I am like God...
I am like God
This cry, his plight, his protestation
Through rotten teeth, with forked tongue
He whispers still.
When did innocence die?
Bright paint over broken glass
A holy charicature
hides the ghastly corpse
Ready for show-and-tell
But when the lights turn off, fearful tears betray
"I am not like my god"
From deepest depths, He calls back
"You are not like your demon"
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