Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical (hermionesviolin) wrote,
Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical
hermionesviolin

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I couldn't sleep.

I showed my mom the envelope i got. She said that her attitude is basically, "I don't care what it [the Bible] says. If God created people who are homosexual, then he is not going to turn around and condemn them for being that way." That was the way i saw the issue back when i started thinking about it two years ago or whenever. It's an argument taht i've started forgetting to make becasue it doesn't work. I think it's important to remember, though, to remind myself of the truths that ground me.

I read Georgia Heard's For the Good of the Earth and the Sun: Teaching Poetry tonight. One of the things she talks about is how she has poems taped up all over her house. I just love that idea and started thinking about stuff like taping Maya Angelou's "Phenomenal Woman" to the bathroom mirror. This made me think of both the Big Sister/Little Sister tradition at Smith and the neat idea's i'd had for stuff to do when i'm a Big Sister next year and also of how i had wanted my house to be like Phyllis's when i grew up. Phyllis was this wonderful older woman i knew as a child who had such a warm house. Books and toys and paints. I could go on and on but i won't. Suffice it to say that it was my ideal for how a home should be. I regret that i never knew her as an adult, because she was a wonderful spiritual woman. She's definitely one of my inspirations.

As i was thinking about Georgia Heard's book i thought of how some moments in life are just like poetry. Like tonight at work when i called Nicki to tell her her book had come in and i got her husband and said i was calling from the library and he put the phone down and i heard him say "library" and when Nicki came on she said, like a little child, "Hi, library." Or tonight when i was lying in bed writing and the rain outside sounded like a waterfall and i was back at that waterfall from our cross-country trip in the Southwest where it was so hot but as you came down the asphalt path and turned a bend the temperature suddenly dropped and you could almost feel the mist from the waterfall on you.


And look! look! look! I think those little fish
better wake up and dash themselves away
from the hopeless future that is
bulging toward them.

And probably,
if they don't waste time
looking for an easier world,

they can do it.

-from "Dogfish" by Mary Oliver
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