{"id":654,"date":"2017-10-23T12:33:44","date_gmt":"2017-10-23T16:33:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/?p=654"},"modified":"2017-10-23T12:33:44","modified_gmt":"2017-10-23T16:33:44","slug":"ecstasy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/ecstasy\/","title":{"rendered":"Ecstasy"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Changing it up with poetry \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/em>Ecstasy<\/em><\/p>\n

Part 1<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>My first lessons were of joy \u2013
\nsoaring church music
\nvoices blended
\norgans boasting and groaning
\npianos splashing fountains of notes
\nonto my untutored ears.<\/p>\n

And gladiolas
\nsmelling of earth and sunshine,
\nrolled into wet newspapers
\ntheir green tang permeating the air
\nas we drove to church late Saturday afternoon.<\/p>\n

And the sanctuary
\nempty and grand
\nechoed\u00a0our footsteps and whispers
\nwhile light cascaded in dusty shafts
\nthrough stained glass
\nand statues in their niches
\ngazed benignly at my grandmother
\nas she placed the glads,
\ntall and vibrant
\nin crystal vases
\nupon the altar.<\/p>\n

On Sunday
\ncommon flowers
\ntransform into icons
\nburning with holy light.<\/p>\n

My mother taught me about Jesus,
\nsinging in her sweet, slightly off-key voice:
\n\u201cJesus loves the little children
\nAll the children of the world,\u201d<\/p>\n

I joined in
\nsometimes imitating her soft tones,
\nsometimes bellowing the words
\n\u201cRed and yellow, black and white,
\nThey are precious in his sight,\u2019<\/p>\n

The story told
\nthe truth distilled
\nthe gospel internalized,
\nlove without boundaries
\ngrabbed me up
\nand never let go.
\n\u201cJesus loves the little children of the world!\u201d<\/p>\n

And my heart broke open.
\n\u201cPlease, please, God,
\nlet me be here when Jesus comes back!\u201d<\/p>\n

And I was filled with wanting
\nlike waiting for Christmas morning to come
\nthe anticipation lovely and powerful.
\nWhen Jesus came back there would be joy
\nlike singing \u2018alleluias\u2019 real loud
\nlike smelling fresh pine needles
\nor swinging so high your toes could touch a cloud.<\/p>\n

And love as good
\nas snuggling on my mother\u2019s lap
\nbreathing in and out just the same.
\nAs good as when my heart
\nhugs the hums of bumblebees.<\/p>\n

Part 2<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Now joy flings me
\ninto the mystery
\nof my pulsing body and blood,
\nbreath and bones.<\/p>\n

\u201cI..I know I\u2019ve been changed!\u201d
\nThe throb of the song and
\nthe thump of my heart
\nbeat together.<\/p>\n

\u201cI..I know I\u2019ve been changed!”
\nI stomp in time,
\nhands stinging
\nas they clap, clap, clap,
\nreleasing the rhythm
\ninto my bloodstream.
\nI cannot stop this clapping,
\nthis stomping,
\nthis singing.
\nat the top of my lungs,
\nair purged,
\nreaching some notes,
\nmissing others
\ncarried away in the chorus swelling around me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI..I know I\u2019ve been changed!\u201d
\nI sing louder,
\nfull-throated
\nnot caring if I am off-key,
\nsharp or flat.
\nLost in the tumultuous sound
\nI rise,
\nmy feet no longer hit the floor to stomp.
\nI am Buddhist priest
\nfloating inches above the ground.
\nI am flying witch.
\nI am whirling dervish.<\/p>\n

Flinging my hands in the air,
\nbright red from clapping,
\nthey burn,
\neased only by the wind I create.<\/p>\n

\u201cI..I know I\u2019ve been changed!\u201d
\nCaught in the music,
\nwoven into the chords,
\ntossed to the rafters
\nnotes thrumming
\nin my breath and heartbeat.<\/p>\n

The \u2018I\u2019 of me
\nBecomes the \u2018we\u2019
\nof a hundred lifted voices.
\nThe song urges us to completion.
\nI heave a breath
\nAnd bellow the next line.
\nAnd another.
\nAnd another.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe angels in heaven done signed my name.\u201d
\nSlowing
\nalmost imperceptibly
\nAnd I sway back into my body
\narms heavy
\nhands tingling
\nsweat dripping between my breasts
\nfeet wanting
\nto keep moving, moving, moving.
\nI fight against what I know is the last refrain:
\n\u201cThe angels in heaven done signed my name.\u201d<\/p>\n

I lift my face
\nand exhale.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Changing it up with poetry \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 … Continue reading Ecstasy<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[6,29,21,25,19],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/654"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=654"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/654\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":657,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/654\/revisions\/657"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=654"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=654"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=654"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}