Faith

I didn't go looking for sadness, so it didn't come looking for me
like the laws of physics the object that was my life
continued in motion, unperturbed by the smooth surface that allowed my
suspension of disbelief to continue into adulthood.
I believed people were kind, or at least my people were kind
the friendly faces at the door, the gentle hands that tucked me in at night
like the air filled butterfly I was being bread to become, not seeing the
cage my cocoon had formed itself into. It was easier to imagine
that everyone was right than I was wrong, the night air feels cooler on your skin
when you choose to leave your coat at home and find solace in the arms of a creator.

It didn't make sense to leave, to know god was to hold fast
to hold fast was to move fast, to beehives to mia maids to laurels to relief society
never really relieving yourself from the inevitable call to womanhood
I knew by body would one day be called to serve. There was stillness, to be sure
everyone knew god came as a whisper but sometimes
he came to me like a scream and I awoke from terrors at being found
not worthy. Of being found uncounted among the flock.
Of being left out of the flock altogether.

And so I read myself into faith as was promised and found joy. I found
people and places and miracles that proved that I
was no different but that I could be different if I only chose
to follow the iron rod instead of curiously wandering into the great and spacious
for a glimpse of coveted independence. That was not to be done.
Apples can only be cut on teethbone closed against the
same questions that tore the original mother away from her promised land
by the tempting serpent. Knowledge is the greatest gift of god
only saved for the next life Sydney,
and you are no serpent
you were chosen in heaven.
Be patient. Everything will make sense in the temple.

There was this idea, this idea that I was above
no beside, no behind, and I never quite knew what papers laid in front of his
warm pudgy hands as he leaned over his desk sizing up my worthiness card.
Pictures of whitewashed men looming behind him in an incandescent glow
of superiority with all-seeing eyes reading over his list of depersonalized qualifications.
he wanted to know everything that time, even when I felt it wasn't between us
he wedged himself like a hammer between me and my god
the hierarchy had been decided, it wasn't just today it was eternal
and I better get used to it if I ever wanted to wear white again.

Sometimes I wonder what would have been, what could have been
with what god gave me under the circumstances of who I was meant to be,
of who I am in the process of becoming. With knowing how blindness ended up being a virtue,
how forgiving and forgetting sounded a whole lot like denial how
not asking too many questions sounded like not swallowing too many hard answers.
I won't lie and say it was easy, I won't lie and say
sitting on fences didn't cut my legs some days leaving me crippled and bleeding like the
Jew we're all supposed to look after as good Samaritans,
though none of us were ever allowed to play the part of Jew. It's not that I needed saving,
it's that I didn't need celestial closure that my life had an organized purpose. I guess no one told them
books are meant to be read from front to cover and life
maybe isn't supposed to be planned, and maybe the meaning of salvation
happens along the way and maybe none of us are right in saying
we know. We testify. We affirm.
Maybe we should just wait until the end of the novel before we start forming discussion questions.

I didn't go looking for sadness, but it finally came looking for me
in the hands of lovers I could never have, of lands I could never see with a baby on my back
of power I could never feel without being labeled a heretic and it hit me like a thick brick wall
halting the momentum I had spent my whole life accumulating. It didn't feel like falling from grace
but every sidelong glance became a silent weapon letting me know
I had questioned the wrong answers. I was no longer one of us.
I had become them, and I guess you can never really explain
to people who are drowning that they're drowning while still in the water they have to
feel the rock of salvation for themselves to know that redemption
is validated in the soul, not in a pew.
That forgiveness doesn't come from a desk, but from a mirror
that love isn't offered in a piece of bread but in the way
you let someone love you for the scars
you never wanted to forget were part of who you have become
because god loves all his children full stop.
and I know that days will pass, and well meaning prayers will still be uttered
in temples around the world on my behalf
and nicely pressed suits will continue to knock on my door
asking if I need any yard work done but the day will never cease
when I won't fight for my right to the eternal, in whatever form it may come
asking all the right questions without the curtain of Oz making
beautiful illusions for how I am supposed to get there.