Monday, August 19, 2013
Poem by Jan Elvee
Jan Elvee is one of my oldest and dearest friends. I have watched her go through many
transitions in her life--most recently from a "culture vulture" (lover of the high arts) to
a person undergoing deep spiritual transformation. One of the aspects of her transformation is the reconciliation of her earlier childhood indoctrination into rather
conformist ideas of Christianity (her father was a minister) with later, more liberal and
less literal interpretations.
Here is a poem she composed recently, reflecting some of this seeming contradiction of
the "old" attitudes with the "new."
In a space that is no place,
Michael hands me a small black book.
Holding it reverently,
it comes alive in my hands,
the color and design altering,
azure, cerulean, squares and rectangles,
the letters The Holy Bible pulsate
from white to gold and back again
unceasingly: the living Word.
I wake up and feel the resistance.
Oh, no, not the Bible!
Dream, August 4, 2013
