Isaiah

Written by: Tim Ryerson

I believe I am born again...
There is nothing extraordinary,
just an uncle's old ramshackle house
with the only difference being
it is on an island in the middle of a lake
where I camped and fished as a boy
It is a small lake, full of brim and bass
The island is very tiny...

A usual gathering of friends and family
Normal everyday conversation
A cousin gets up for a drink and a snack
(Yes, yes of course he does!)
People talking and joking in the kitchen
Not important the general subject
or even who they are...it does not apply
I am there strictly to listen and observe
with senses amplified ad-infinity...

Flash. I am outside
I notice colors, shapes and sounds
thousands of times more vivid and sharp
though numbers no longer exist because
there is nothing to count or measure;
no clocks ticking to keep time
because there is no time to keep
No future, no past, only the Now
Only the perfect and eternal Present...

Flash. I am on the opposite bank
Fish hover, dart and fly in crystal waters
yet it is not water and they are not fish
Birds that are not birds swim in rippled air
The earth I stand on is no longer earth 
nor is anything or anyone else
because nothing has a name...

Flash. It seems
good and evil and all in between are no more
because there is no thought or opinion
Every action, movement, voice and word
makes pure and absolute sense
and my immortal mind simply sucks it all in
but is never filled...

Oh Isaiah I pray
Isaiah I pray and inquire of our God
our almighty and all-knowing God
our God of the Holy Trinity   

Isaiah is this the prophecy
Is this a glimpse of that realm;
that realm where the wolf dwells with the lamb
where the child plays at the pit of the viper
The child, the child....who is that child
that little child who shall lead them?
That chosen child, is this that child
that child of...

Oh Isaiah, Isaiah
I believe I am born again


Submitted for: Regina Riddle's contest