The Great American Gospel

“The desert surrounds your every step and you walk forever a thirsty man”. – Christopher Pike – Creatures of Forever

“Still” she says, “be still your craving heart within”!

The Great American Gospel begins somewhere just beneath my skin. Standing in the silent desert four yards from a railroad track outside Tucumcari, New Mexico, watching the full moon commit her greatest sin. For she shines as if to rival the sun, showing the contours of the barren wilderness, exposing its wanton skin. And the spirit speaks from the sand, the loneliness calls from the desperateness held from the deep dry well within. It says I am a great magnetic force, the gravity that speaks to heal your craving wound within. The first coming, before the second, the holiness of G_D, that never lets you go, even when you weep, till your soul is a dry cavern within. I am the wilderness of scars, always this great land force, with a night shadow, under these constellations, that tempts you in.

There is a rusty Hunt’s tomato sauce can that I kick. It hits a rock and makes a sound that echoes in the wide desert. A doorbell for the ghost both outside and within. Its colder than it should be outside Tucumcari, it could be that the daemons now have come to play. Like coyotes, no doubt the “Ancient of Days” has allowed them in. For they circle and they taunt, and they howl, as if to say “Eli, Eli, Ichabod” in this dry ocean, is the end. “Where do you now go, with what can you send”? And here while the night does move, the black sky parting, the light from those stars of Adonai, paint a seal upon my uplifted arms. Kissing like a lover from my neck, to my scars so deep within.

And I crave the touch, the unhiding of what or where I begin. For she is like a question that moves around me to where I cannot answer without craving she inhabit my every limb. And she is not in cities, or crowded rooms, neither does she know war or shame. It is the great American Gospel, that inhabits every pore of my skin. Standing in the silent desert four yards from a railroad track outside Tucumcari, New Mexico, I am with you, and you are a spirit fed familiar living time within. Still, oh still my craving hungry heart within. “Still” she says, “be still your craving heart within”! – 06.24.2018 – דָנִיֵּאל