Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Tradition

 All I have are my stories, but they are mighty, like a creation. My thoughts are impatient to imprint. My actions impact a sudden outbreak of violence. My responses ask for explanations, but my creases are sharply folded around time. When rebuked, you can still see lines from the creases in me, like an unfolded origami. My heart leaps tall buildings in a single bound, but my falls crash like inertia. My eyes can twirl like sushi rolls. My tongue has been epic for generations. I smell like sub subjects of death.


 I am whatever “they” say I am. Literally, I can blend with the best of them, and trust, I am considered because of the best of them. I move slow, but I take shortcuts through memories and history. I am in the spiritual and secular. I do well with balance, but I can’t stand change. I am a perfectionist of watering down standards, morals, and values. I take flight with wings of superstition, oppression, and depression, while I land confidently on grounds of confusion, vengeance, and breakdowns. I am intrigued with bloodlines. I instill fear and I play with control.

 I am not created on my own, I am born and bred by people. They welcome me and people become comfortable in my presence. I’ve played devil’s advocate since the beginning of time, just ask the Pharisees and modern day families. I am the reason the young shun the wisdom of the old. I am also the reason the old can’t comprehend the new generation. I cause family to be defined by the great, greats. My best friend is pride, well most of the time. My names hang and echo throughout the hallways of your educational programs, governments, and churches.

 I am a ritual, belief, or object passed down within a society, still maintained in the present, with origins in the past. I used to be you, and still, I am many right now. I am covered up with blankets of religion, deception, and manipulation. I am tradition. Don’t act like you don’t know me. You pray against me, but you contradict your request, putting the Holy Spirit in a box, not realizing the word then, is still the word now. You thrust me into the atmosphere daily, especially in moments of ignorance, primarily those times when you’re challenged. God is contemporary. If He wasn’t, then why would you be created for such a time as this. Would you have really survived twenty to fifty years prior to your birth, being who you are today? I am a necessity in certain sections of order. As in many matters in the realm of physicality and time, my original purpose has been manipulated and used as a mask for truth, the word of God.

 I plea with you, redefine me in your own lives, that I may be shed in a different light by anyone connected to you. Understand my existence, but with that, submit your will to Christ. You are the salt of the earth, but the church is compromising its ability to assist in purifying society. I met Christ and He redefined me in spite of those whom used me as a form of bondage and superiority to mislabel and stereotype Him. I am a word with power, not to be misconstrued. I have two sides, just as you do. Jesus defined me in acts such as baptism, communion, and deliverance, all of which people have used as a forefront for their own wills. At this point, just as my name would have it, I go back. Back to my tradition. Now that I have introduced myself, how may I help you?

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