Natural Supernatural


Thursday evening, my 85 year old mother in law said to me over the dessert table, "I'm getting near to nothing." The ghosts of Kierkegaard and Dylan Thomas stormed in, demanded liquor, and argued about it in my brain all weekend. I heard them stumble out yesterday morning and found this note by the coffeemaker. Natural Supernatural

I'm made out of mud. I'm next to nothing. By the grace of God, I'm one in a million. I'm a natural supernatural.

This minute is mine. To the good we go. The tolling told what the old men know. I'm a natural supernatural.

Sister Rose with your rosary, there's a hole in your hosiery that belies my disbelief as to why we're here.

We can pray with poetry. We can grow our groceries. So we hoe so hopefully we yoke the years.

Well I got no good. I'm next to nothing. Ever since I stood, I'm king of the mountain. I'm a natural supernatural.

I could take credit or give it to you. I'm a gandy gambler. I'm the Great I Do. I'm a natural supernatural.

See the arch in the archery. Hear the psalm in the psaltery. Help the queen off of her knees before the war.

See her infant in the infantry. All the gall for his gallantry came direct from the rectory. Unhinge the door.

I'm a sack full of holes. I'm next to nothing. I'm the master of all this mash and mutton. I'm a natural supernatural.

The life I live forbears forever. All the days I'm dead lie next to never. I'm a natural supernatural.

At the top of the pyramid, all the kings and philosophers hid. From the all-needing eye of the id, they tumbled down.

From the castle to the coast, despite heights that builders boast, the lowest stone must hold the most under the ground.

I'm made out of mud. I'm next to nothing. By the grace of God, I'm one in a million. I'm a natural supernatural.

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