poem

[jenk]

From The Weather of the Heart, by Madeleine L'Engle. I thought of this when writing a recent thank-you to God (I had considered ending it "I hate you. / Love, Jen" but I decided it would have only been for humor and a chance to quote Madeleine, not what I really meant. So instead I quoted dianthus (like that makes it *much* more clear).)

The poem expresses feelings I have had; when I first ran across it I was aghast and liberated by the thought of openly expressing anger at God. Logically, it's obvious that God can handle anger (God created it). But emotionally it can be quite the surprise...

Love Letter

I hate you, God.
Love, Madeleine.

     I write my message on water
     and at bedtime I tiptoe upstairs
     and let it flow under your door.

When I am angry with you
I know that you are there
even if you do not answer my knock
even when your butler opens the door an inch
and flaps his thousand wings in annoyance
at such untoward interruption
and says that the master is not at home.

     I love you, Madeleine.
     Hate, God.

(This is how I treat my friends, he said to one great saint.
No wonder you have so few of them, Lord, she replied.)

     I cannot turn the other cheek
     It takes all the strength I have
     To keep my fist from hitting back
     the soldiers shot the baby
     the little boys trample the old woman
     the gutters are filled with groans
     while pleasure seekers knock each other down
     in order to get their tickets stamped first.

I'm turning in my ticket
and my letter of introduction.
You're supposed to do the knocking. Why do you burst my heart?

     How can I write you
     to tell you that I'm angry
     when I've been given the wrong address
     and I don't even know your real name?

I take hammer and nails
and tack my message on two crossed pieces of wood:

     Dear God
     is it too much to ask you
     to bother to be?
     Just show your hindquarters
     and let me hear you roar.

Love,
Madeleine