Today’s prompt came late, after I had begun my school day, so I’m only getting to it now.  The prompt is to write an idea poem.

God is disruptive, he told us.
That’s a new one, I thought.

Perhaps that’s how it ought to be,
he said, not letting you settle
too deeply into the ruts,
pushing you off your perch,
disturbing your equilibrium,
subverting your comfort zone.

She chases me out into the desert,
colors me out of the lines,
thinks me out of the box.
How else should I want it,
I, who choose the savannah
over the closed cathedral?

I’m not entirely sure that this is true to me.  Perhaps for those of us who choose the fields rather than the boxes, the disruption comes in the form of those who would try to reel us in and lock us into their claustrophobic rooms.  This is actually the disruption that I experienced this past week, though I am not sure I would connect it to the message from a disruptive Godde.


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