To my beloved brother Cain
Forms without boundaries, edges or shape
A longing for home, to out-carnate.
From the strictures and structures
And the rules of the game.
Yet the ties are an illusion
They are the candle, not the flame.
You chose to breathe life into the form that you are
Into the bones, and the blood, and the guts, and the scars.
You’ve learned to move gently between worlds high and low
And wearing, each time, a new untried robe.
So now two goats, on an altar lay,
One for the devil and one god’s own prey.
One and the same, from the eye that sees high
Yet down in the shadows that view is denied.
Morals and integrity may tell you to flee
But really, dear friend, to flee, to be free,
To say no to the robe, to the role, to the goat?
And never to know the gift they might hold?
So here is the challenge, sweet brother dear,
Be seen in the dark of the outcast’s lair
Be seen in the illusion of the unhealed split
And hold it so gently, with our love, and our wit!
Carry projections that are too stark
A painful sacrifice, carrying Cain’s mark,
But offer them up, on your own altar of love
To that highest of highest, and deepest, above.
Play your part with great fervour,
Connected, yet free,
Dip down into the shadows
Love the pain that you see.
Never mind the critics, or the reviews the next day
I, who so loves you, invites you to stay.
To be burned, and made ash, and yet still to play on,
Because that is our service and our sacred song.
Note: Sometimes we are cast in the role of Cain, in the role of Judas. Rightly or wrongly we need to find the courage to play the part, to have it projected on us. Because we know who we are, and we know that beyond projections, judgements and convictions lies the pure joy of being alive.