Degree work again! With Aberdeen University,
Long distance, so not in strange surroundings,
This time in the subject of my choice and tenacity,
For posterity, so as to keep above the drownings.
It’s Christian Studies, or I say theology or religion,
And psychosomatic is the word to deflect and bat,
Which loudly venerates in the divinity selection,
Where divinity scholars attempt that requested slat.
Psycho-so-matic, or “the mind” “by” “motor action”:
“the mentality” “using” “cognitive brain structures”;
“the mental” “through” “neurological muscular motion”,
The psyche so as to do with events, people and cultures.
But why don't theologians see psychosomatic analysis,
As astronomically colliding with that transcendental verb,
In which god apologises for that divine interference,
When anytime, god changes your clarity into a muddy blurb.
As a disabled child in physio, for sure I truly understood,
The word “psychosomatic”, ‘cos my bible-loving dad,
Thought the word was academic trash, not white nude,
Because it validates contextual sociology as the comrade.
So did my arm and legs movements all depend on god?
Or on psychosomatics - if my parents had sent me out full?
On happiness, psychology, mood, highers and fine kin squad,
On settings, sociology and environment, and not on bull.
Surely the discussion in theology class should entertain,
Really straight, whether the bible fits into the normal tap,
Where you march, join, journey boldly through the terrain,
Of a richly humanly authored character splayed literary trap.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2017