I Know Nothing Of God

I Will Write Things, He Was Thinking. I Will Write Something Meaningful And Wonderful Someday. I Can Do That. And I'll Dedicate It To You Because You're The First Person Who Ever Made Me Think I Could.

In The Spring Of 1988, I Returned To New Orleans, And As Soon As I Smelled The Air, I Knew I Was Home. It Was Rich, Almost Sweet, Like The Scent Of Jasmine And Roses Around Our Old Courtyard. I Walked The Streets, Savoring That Long Lost Perfume.

I Hear The Birds Singing. Listen. I Hear Them In Their Cage. The Others-all Our Kind Who Know Of Her-they Think Of Her As Heartless, But She Wasn't Heartless. She Was Only Aware Of Things Which I Didn't Learn Till So Many Decades Had Passed. She Knew Secrets That Only Suffering Can Teach.

That Is The Crowning Evil, That We Can Even Go So Far As To Love Each Other, You And I. And Who Else Would Show Us A Particle Of Love, A Particle Of Compassion Or Mercy? Who Else, Knowing Us As We Know Each Other, Could Do Anything But Destroy Us? Yet We Can Love Each Other.

I Think There Is A Modern Temper. The Authority Figures We Revered In The Past Are All Up For Grabs - They're Gone. We Are Groping For Meaning In A World Where Some Of Our Gods Have Died. We're Asking Ourselves, 'who Is Our True Brother And Sister, Where Is Our True Home?' The Modern Tempter Is Our Struggle To Lead Meaningful Lives, And Even If We Don't Believe In Religion, We Can Reach Down And Hold On To Our Core Values For Guidance.