I Found Jesus; He's a Flashlight

I found Jesus; and he's a flashlight.
Illuminating my every step, he shined brightly upon me.
I followed faith blindly along Grace's path.
Then Jesus' battery died, and I began to lose my way.
My sight grew dim as my vision was succumbed to darkness.
I watched as the last rays of light traced across the floor and faded instantly into nothing.
My world was consumed by an empty darkness, devoid of light and form.
An ungodly silence wrought my darkest thoughts, and crowded my mind.
It gleaned from my every hope and dream, waging a war on my psyche.
Deafening me to "reason".

I was alone, unaware, and without bearing.
For a time, I staggered forward in this state of ill-being, distemperate, and delusional.
How long I traversed this land without direction is hard to say.
It was not until a sound echoed from the distance that I regained some semblance of focus.
It was a voice.
Desperately I searched in the direction from which it came.
But, it was not to be found.
I grasped at the air in vain, and cursed the Gods.
Then, through the silence, a voice landed on my ear.
This time it had fidelity, and was audible.
I had only begun to discern what it said, when a Spirit lifted me away.

I was set down across from an indistinguishable figure.
Looking beyond it, I could see I was no longer trapped in my previous prison.
Here, light stretched vertically across the expanse and formed a Horizon which sat level in the distance.
I lowered my eyes from behind, and settled them back on the mysterious figure before me.
Gazing upon this silhouette for some time, I hoped to elicit some activity from it.
It remained unprovoked.
Upon a closer look it resembled a meek and fragile figure of small physical stature. Squared to me; its eyes affixed to mine.

I found Gandhi, and he's a Pez Dispenser.
Candy-colored kernels of knowledge flowed freely from his mouth.
Sounding sweet, millions ate and digested his words without thought or question.
I felt inspired, although my appetite and soul still hungered for something more.
But, I could not pass up the teachings of Gandhi.
Thus I ate.
Filling myself with his spoken word, I metabolized verse by verse, each of his five teachings.
I freely fed upon his sugar-coated knowledge, stopping only to gain an understanding of Life.
My mind became fattened by the volumes of Earthly facts I had retained.
I applied this newly acquired Insight to shed light on each step I took.
However, wisdom weighed heavily upon me; it burdened my mind to solve world problems.
I was hurting; my soul left, decaying.

It was sadly apparent that I must move on if I were to thrive, and grow strong.
Though as a baby I was sustained with spiritual milk,
In adolescence, appeased with sugar-coated knowledge;
Now mature, I yearned for spiritual food with substance and bone.
I craved sustenance.

I sat and meditated on this, prostrate before God.

"Which way is it that I should head? Please, guide me in your will."

No answer.
No Spirit to whisk me away.
Dejected, I stood up and began to walk in an attitude of prayer.
Far from the start, maybe somewhere in between, the landscape began to change again.
The horizon, which once hung so ornately in the distance, now began to vibrate.
Cracks spread, and behind them light poked through threatening to tear apart the black sky.
Uncontrollably these vibrations quickened, now paced to my heart's beat.
The world quaked as mountains erupted in all directions outward.
I watched a particular range, stationed high above the rest, climb until it struck this mosaic and broke the veil completely.
Heavenly shards in sheets of seamless beauty fell as rain to the ground.
Each drop giving way to a growing patchwork of white behind it.

Likewise, the ground beneath me swelled, and flooded.
For 40 days and 40 nights this storm raged without break,
Until only the crest of each mountain top touched air.
I swam against the ebb and flow of life, to no avail.

"How is it that I have become inundated in this darkness again?!"

I screamed under the waves, and let the current overtake me.
Blackness filled my lungs.
I had given up.
Focused inward, I embraced the sensation in my chest as my lungs clamored for air.
That is all I remember.

I awoke, face down.
Somehow, I had been washed up onto a peak.
I gasped repeatedly, and turned over onto my back.
An intricately woven tapestry of flawless white blinded me from above.
I had never seen anything like it.

"If Esoteric Knowledge is to be had, it is found within this realm."

I was sure of it.

In time, my eyes adjusted.
When I was able to see clearly I sat up and took in my surroundings.
This mountain which saved my life proved a valuable vantage point.
Cliff after cliff taunted me, arranged in queue indefinitely.
To climb ones sheer face only assured me passage down its backside, and back into the cold black waters.
For miles in all directions this world was treacherous.
I laid my head down, to think.

"How could a place so magnificent be so dangerous?"

Amid the annals of teachings acquired within my soul, something spoke to me.
My spirit groaned in utterances I could not interpret.
It was clear I had not been left for dead, and something still held a purpose for me.
Upon this revelation a vestibule was formed and stretched across the mountains.
My journey continued.

Within this safe passage echoed the clanking of metal.
I had no idea what was going on.
In faith I inched forward placing one foot in front of the other.
Methodically I moved with a purpose, yet still aimless.
For a long time I wandered, led only by this hallway and the idea of what lay in wait.
My mind would drift with this notion, in and out of thought.
I imagined crowds of people cheering my arrival; the air filled with jubilee.
Fit for a king, but not the scholar I was destined to be.
Fantasies dashed to pieces by a distant clank of metal which had now become a steady roar.

The vestibule opened to a sea of gold.
I could see two fountains spilling forth from the pockets of pious zealots.
In reverence, they filled the coffers gladly.
Apparently money was the means through which their souls were saved.
Ordained by many as the mouthpiece of God a mortal man was made infallible.
Out of this mouth spoke their heart.

Eagerly I ran towards him and threw myself at his feet.
I began weeping from exhaustion.
Despite my apparent agony, without emotion, he reached into my pockets.

"I have nothing to give to you, sir. I am indisposed, and in need of healing!"

Clenched within both fists my patience was squeezed until anger oozed out.
With everything in me I restrained my tongue.

"Forgiveness and absolution do not come cheap my son", he bellowed.

I found the Pope; he's a vending machine.
A purveyor of lies and remedies steeped in Pagan tradition.
Kept out of most reach and sold solely to those with something to give.
But given not to those souls with reason to live.
This seemed unfair; at the time I was enraged.
Only with age did I learn, these things aren't bought, they're earned.
Sickened by this waste of time, I turned from his religion.
My spirit fled in fast retreat.
Far from his walls adorned with gold, and beyond the land of storming souls.

Religion had failed, Philosophy had failed, man had failed.
What was left?

"Perhaps there is a grey area in which both religion and philosophy meet."

Great walls rose up before my very eyes.
Enshrined inside was a table.
A dichotomy of ideologies seemed to form a board.
Signs were draped from side to side that read: Politics Vs. The People.

I found Politics playing Scrabble.
Its team was composed of three separate bodies equally the same.
With one in charge of the other a semblance of balance was maintained.
Severe infighting, however, seemed to weaken its solidly built frame.
In grievance millions of people gathered, as Bureaucracy, and took a seat.
Begun a war of words to which neither side would concede.
Politics focused on taking its time, and leaned in gazing intently.
Content with its selection of letters, it would not rush its move, nor did it have reason too.
After all, it was The People who created it.
For two to eight years they agreed, subject to rule of decree and presidential veto.

Oppressed by their own devices and growing more impatient, the People cried that Politics may falter.
They beat against this system they themselves had made, and tried to amend the Constitution to which they were enslaved.
Bureaucracy laid its pieces down before its turn and spelled the word "DEMOCRACY".

From across the table Politics shouted,

"Foul! Your actions spell "Dissension!"

Both began to bicker sorely, and chattered under breath.
They yelled louder than the other to hear what was being said.
Confusion filled the air and imparted a sour disposition inside the Arena.
Looking on in grief, I witnessed an eye open above the two parties.
It caught fire to the table, and inscribed on its legs secret motives.
Dark incantations of an ancient language rose from the flames binding both parties together in name.
A man stepped out of the eye; he proclaimed divinity.
The New World Ordered itself with this beast.
It established an alter to desecrate God, and called for seven years of peace.
Feasting, it worshiped the Eye that had set him on high.

Nothing could be gained from this mockery, this Anti-Christ.
It was a fiction, a figment inspired by necessity in a time of tribulation.
Empty and conceited, the antithesis of Good.
If not in league with, then I was against,
Blackballed as a heretic, a martyr for Love.
From amid this bedlam I walked out quietly before it was too late.

I found myself; I am a puppet.
My strings are pulled tight, and then they're let go.
I'm held by a noose that's made of regret, hanging loose from my neck it resets marionettes.
During my search for peace through Doctrines and Dogmas, I ceased to be me, rather I became my beliefs.
I assimilate into my surrounding, and integrate into my being, ideals and thoughts not of my own.
I am just a shadow of a man, a shell if you will.
But, at least this man knows where he stands when the world's religions all fail.