We might need more poems

When you come face to face with an unclean spirit, do you mirror its emotions? Do you rage at its anger?

Or do you pause?

Do you remember that your fists are often first tears?

Do you smile, as screams come forth, or do you yell louder?

I’d like to say that I pause, and smile, and extend a spirit of compassion

—this is an expression of my faith; it’s a spiritual exercise.

The unclean spirit, stops to consider that it is just lonely. It laughs. Together we become human.

Mostly, that’s not true.

Pausing, smiling, and practicing mercy are expressions of my faith; but they’re usually second expressions.

My first instinct is too often to say…

well, you know what—

not, bless you.

Mostly that curse doesn’t make me happy.

It fills me with more anger.

Then I get sad.

Then I wonder if there’s ever any way to ever stop transferring pain, to transform it into something or someone beautiful.

There is actually.

Smile more. Laugh. Perhaps read a poem.

Second actions are a spiritual practice.