This is a transcript of on-the-spot poetry I delivered at the Dandelion Seed Conference, Sunday AM on May 3, 2015, unedited to retain the feeling of a moment we had together:
Why do you shy away from the trip your own imagination can take without alteration from an additional numbing agent? Without opiates?
Who comes along your side to say all is well, and all things are well, and all worlds are well, and all creatures are well, and all is well?
Who comes from beyond, where do they take you within? Who shares your visions of giants on fire? Who can abide the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears?
What haunts the farthest edge of your realm, what shy and humble creatures carry packages of cheese and bread and olives and smaller parcels of gold and frankincense and myrrh? Whom shall they feed, whose water will they draw and pour? Whom shall they bury– whom shall they embalm?
When the jabberwocky grinds his way out of granite, his stomach growling, what bear of little brain will fearlessly defeat him with his own misunderstanding?
What Jesus on what road on what backwoods planet will boldly go where no man has gone before?
What redemption will you find, and what grace will you offer in return? What courage will you be known for, and what bravery will you applaud? When avengers crush the buildings and scorch the skies will you run, or stand: will you endure? Who may abide the day of his coming and who shall stand when he appears?
What are you afraid to see: A ship sailing the prairies? A fish swimming the void of cosmos? A friend brought home from wandering? But who — who could possibly
Abide?
Who can stand
When he comes?
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Adam G. Fleming 