The Burning Bush
I survived my humiliation
By treating it like a joke
Through becoming a joke myself
In order to in turn survive my beclowning
I became a running joke
But I could only run away from myself for so long
And it was so long as
I kept beating around the bush
Never arriving at the point
Like me, the bush is afire
But where I was set afire
In order to be consumed–
Chewed up and spit out
By a world, meaning by the people
I no longer trusted–
The bush is afire without being consumed
Because God is the one source of perpetual energy
So, I can finally stop trying
To outrun my past
And let it burn itself out
Because there is an unfailing light up ahead
That will never be diminished
In that light
I can see the ashes
From the part of me that died
Which is all that remains from being
Beclowned, benighted, and bewildered
Seeing this, I have to laugh
Because, minus the part of me that died
I find I’m deadly serious
