In graduate school I learned about demons. They are the most awake during the hours of two and three. That's what the film director told us. "Scott Derrickson wants to scare you," the man who introduced him said, and he said something too about transcendental darkness. I think that was supposed to be the lesson, but Scott said, "Turn out the lights!" he said, "Make it darker!" and the Santa Fe mountains disappeared behind the curtains that swooped out the light and he showed us a movie about a girl named Emily and she was screaming and she was sick - possessed, I guess. Answer me when I call God, What is the lesson I am supposed to learn here? What does transcendental darkness mean? What was Emily's favorite toy? When did she learn to ride a bike? What was her favorite color? Was she left or right-handed? Did she have a favorite book, and did she know how to bake chocolate chip cookies and what it feels like to dive into water on a July afternoon? Be angry and do not sin David tells us I am too afraid to be angry I am too afraid I shove myself into a corner in the bathroom where I fled to I cry for Emily I cry for my girls I cry for myself For all of us who are boundlessly consumed Turn it into enchantment Turn it into the stuff of redemption: dough rising in a bowl underneath a kitchen cloth paintbrushes dipped in color and pointing to a blank canvas harmony from our differences to make an old song new The stubborn donkey who waits hoping to be used Answer me when I call.
Callie, I read your old entry on this topic a few months ago and it resonated with me. Thank you for this.
Callie, what a creative take on Psalm 4, especially those last lines,
“The stubborn donkey
who waits
hoping to be used”
Wow.
(headed over here via Megans’ post today 8.3.23)
Thank you, Jody. Haha! That was a fun moment when those lines came to me.
And this wonderful Psalm project is all Megan’s fault. She’s the one who introduced me to a poem written about Psalm 23, and wrote about it on her Substack.