Speaking in Tongues

They call it speaking tongues
Before there was language there was the beat
in cloud claps and stuttergasps
our eyes and tongues fluttering like moth wings
hypnotized by the light.
this is never going to make sense
I don’t expect you to understand
just feel where I’m coming from
feel it ya’ll
we’re all struggling to conceptualize this confusion
but our language is too limited
Asking questions like:
Why are we here?
George Carlin says:
“Plastic, assholes.”
Stephen Hawking tells us: philosophy is dead
My dad thinks
we evolved from when the aliens
jettisoned their space toilets.
Which makes us all space shit.
Like it’s all one big practical joke
and God can’t stop laughing
He wants us to laugh too
‘cause that’s the fastest way to get to love
A language spoken in the vibration of heartstrings
It comes out in the moments we still feel like children
playing with our toys
imagination the fastest way to someplace better
Our brains are still trying form this feeling into words
but when its gets to our lips
there are translation errors
Frustrated with these limitations
I took to turning the ring on my finger
hoping my belief in it would give it power
It’s no different than you wearing a cross, a yarmulke
Carrying a Koran in your pocket
I want to learn sign language
Breakdance, hip roll, salsa swing better
so I can relearn how to speak clearly with my body
know it will never be enough
Something more is happening here
The perilous line between idea and ideology
has left us all running on autopilot
babbling in sound bites
turned faith into dogmas and religion
ricocheting quotations off holy books
into the brains of people
voices trembling in song and psalm
desperate for something, anything
an answer
When we think we’ve learned the sound of His song
we get into wars with anyone who sings different
because we’re not evolved enough yet
to be comfortable in our own skins
Stuck in our mental tidal wave
the undertow pulling is out
We can feel it now
Terrified to let go
Dance, sing, love,
speak to God or gods
It doesn’t matter what you believe
if you’re an evangelical, agnostic, or atheist,
so long as the belief is true to you.
But I don’t want to preach to you
because that’s how the repressed,
speak to the desperate,
just ask any fundamentalist.
But the Promised Land is the place
where we come back ourselves,
own our stories,
speak the rhythm, the song
and the tongue.