Harvey Milk and Meister Eckhart Picnic in The Castro

Went to see Milk for the second time at The Castro Theater last night. This burst forth from me on the long drive home. Hope it blesses you.

Queen, Prophet and Priestess

I’m single
But G-d’s been courting me a bit
Slipping into my dreams
Like a shameless lover

____Outside,
__________It’s America,
____But in here,
___________________it’s the time of humid darkness,
___________________the color of womb,
_________Like the sound of the Creator
____Making love to Wisdom
_________And midwives
____________________Swimming galaxies
For the last five years and 9 months

_______________________________I’ve heard you tell stories
_________Of kisses that create spirituality
_________And wine and smokes that toke our artistic renditions
______________Of Saint Francis Missions and Jesuit wishings

_____These gaudy Castro walls
____________________We know whose splotches supplied the paint
_____We know the sane breaks
____________________Of window pain fakes
_____Harvey, but to you he’s a capital Milk
_____Supplying inspiration like estrogen
To Gragical Theology Priestesses
_______________Shifting light
_______________in centers

And here’s where wounds come in
_________________________Through wood imprinted
_________________________And subtle growths stinted
___________On the secrets at the heart
_________________________________________of the dark arts
___________Hand painted
___________into
________________a new
__________________language and color
With no longer a fear of the other
But rather
The afterlife collaborated
to half the strife
____________________Of those bongos in the sky
__________________________Now ain’t that fly