Make My Heart Rejoice
I thought it tasted good—this fruitful bite of knowledge—this sense—this stimulated mind.
Its thoughts were turned upon itself and down they found abyss—salvaged by “I think.”
Not forgotten was its mate—how could it think and yet not be—“I am” made its way.
“Nothing more for sure” was tried, yet it itself denied—knowledge was in trouble.
“Taste not the tempting fruit”—command was given—a bigger brain than ours required
To subdue the Earth as was commanded—help offered from the tree of life—required.
“Multiply, as creatures fruitful, filling all the Earth, and take the garden with you
To my liking and to yours, given feelings and reasonings in accordance with your place.”
Yet I, a sinner, tasted of the tempting—forgetful of my needed help, and now I write and stew.
“Make my heart rejoice,” says the One who hides his face—yet peeks a smile—
Collecting brothers of his son and other sheep—even holding seeds for planting in their time.
“Trust me,” says the One, “that my ways are higher and so my thoughts are higher, too.”
In the meantime Nietzsche grills, “Reasons? Why ask for reasons when feelings are strong?”
We say, “Reasons would be nice, and yes, our feelings are strong.”
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