I’ve lived mustard seed faith.
I’ve said, “Move, mountain.” and it moved.
“MO00000000VE, MOUNTAIN!!!” and it moved.
The mountain of gossip.
The mountain of deceit.
The mountain of cheating and lies.
The mountain of impatience and impertinence.
The mountain of being the right color at the wrong time.
The mountain of enemies, spousal abuse and negligence.
The mountain of birth, death, and abortions.
The mountain of all of my sins moved.
But after the mountain ranges moved,
there was nothing but empty.
A valley of alone-ness and solitude.
In my mountain free world I discovered
God only meant the mustard seed
to be the starting point;
not the end all, and be all of faith,
not the final parameters
the jumping off place.
I took on the challenge and
with the faith of a watermelon seed,
“Dance, mountain, dance.”
The mountain lifted her skirt and began to waltz.
“Dance, mountain, dance!”
The mountain began to Cha-Cha.
It did the Meringue, and the Macarena.
“DANCE, MOUNTAIN, DANCE!!!”
It twisted and shouted, it did the Poney Maroney and the Skate and the Monkey and the Frugue. It Pop-locked into the Robot and C-Walked.
with the faith
of an avocado seed
“SING, MOUNTAIN, SING!”
And me finding my slumber in a mountain lullaby.
Or even me with the faith of a mango seed,
“Make love to me mountain, make love.”
Aaaaaaah, the faith of it.