writing about my life

Open letter of frustration

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Oh Nazarene

You claimed you were here to help everyone, but you will not answer my questions. Is it true you journeyed to India in search of a spiritual teaching? Why then did you not include the sacred insights of that place into your teaching?

The knowledge that, as well as the Creator and Sustainer God has another sacred face, that of the Destroyer.

Under this idea, as we depart, we can come to see the glory of our annulment. We come to peace with our finitude and limited span, as but a mote, inevitably mortal.

But you had to please the audience you found, didn’t you. You had to assent to and elaborate on these myths about eternal life.


When it pleases the Destroyer even this whole universe will be cast away and unmade, to make way for more divine play.

Was it that you failed to accept your existence as a mote? Such our souls are in the widest picture. Yet we should still glory in our brief time, which at least you implied. I have so many questions. You say I can commune with your presence, if I follow you. You say you are with me through your love, but I cannot find you. What balm are you bringing me if you meet my inquiry with just silence?

Is it that your compass was limited to the age of Pisces? Your dual millenial aegis has met its end and humanity must find a new chief guide. Is this it? Or did you truly just die like any other on your fateful day leaving only a memory, a memory that became the obsession of a whole culture?

Speak to me!


Written by Luke Dunn

January 5, 2015 at 9:08 am

Posted in Prose

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