American Mystics

by Catherine Simpson


Here we are under God,
Watched by Him. He may bless
Us, but otherwise doesn’t
Interfere.
We like it that way.
Occasionally we have a
Revival with the Spirit, or a
Drug-fueled Encounter
In the desert. But
Otherwise God is like the
Oldest Founding Father,
Similarly white-capped like
Mt. Fuji, muttering old tomes.
Here, there aren’t holy sites
For pilgrimage, there
Aren’t new sightings of the
Miraculous, the gurus seem
Intrinsically false, by virtue
Of being American.
I think that the true
Other-ness
Of mysticism scares us, as it
Does the hearts of all
Citizens of empires
When regarding a Country
Bigger than us.

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