Comments and Replies ... and Who We Are

TANATA is devoted to discussing the paradoxes and the mysteries of life, among which is the paradox of the coexistence of good and evil. “God is love,” John tells us. Evil exists, we would suggest, not because God is detached or unconcerned, but because free will exists which is required for true, unforced love to exist. Still, it is painfully hard to reconcile this paradox. We believe that all evil one day will be judged and destroyed, until then we must pray.

DANIEL 7:13-14

13 “I was watching in the night visions, and behold, One like the Son of Man, coming with the clouds of heaven! He came to the Ancient of Days, and they brought Him near before Him.

14 Then to Him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom the one which shall not be destroyed.


7 Behold, He is coming with clouds, and every eye will see Him, even they who pierced Him. And all the tribes of the earth will mourn because of Him. Even so, Amen.

Powered by Squarespace



« Asmarino »

One time I dreamed of
A maiden from Abyssinia.

She softly called my name,
As she played her dulcimer.

Her skin was black as the night.
I was wooed to join her side.

They speak of “little death,”
And oh that night I died.

We spoke of nothing,
As she filled the air with song.

Her words were strange, so strange;
So I could not sing along.

Mount Abora was in her heart:
A crooked man who drove a crooked cart.

Out of my prison, she freed me …
Finally a new start.

Years have passed,
Epochs, since I heard that tune.

Now I am haunted …
As I gaze up at the moon.

I have learned she sang in Ge’ez …
Slowly I’ve revived in me … the words she said:

How many lost?
How many dead?

“Ancestral voices
Prophesying war.”

“A dome of pleasure
Floating far from shore.”

Were her words for me …
That I might have the gift of prophecy?

The missionaries
Flood into Africa —

Bringing good news
To a place called Asmara.

Was this the Mount Abora
Regaled by the damsel of Abyssinia?

Could this be Eden?
The missionaries tread upon?

Leaving no food, but paper
And then they’re gone?

Lured by the blackened skin …
False prophets can see no greater sin.

Pretty Asmarino …
Your symphony and song …

Such deep delight …
If only all could sing along!

Building domes in air …
The maiden’s music could take us there.

Asmarino …
Your song says beware, beware!

Flashing eyes in caves of ice:
The answer’s there!

Asmarino, who is he with floating hair …
With rings of vapor, like a crown, he wears?

I close my eyes,
Filled with holy dread;

So many will die …
And so many are already dead.

They dine on honey-dew on ice …
Drenched with the milk of paradise.

_— rcg

Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
All HTML will be escaped. Hyperlinks will be created for URLs automatically.