"Pardon" connects to what I wrote to introduce "Parade" and also "My Certainty". This adds the message that everyone has to pay their dues. In the end, I'm 100% responsible for what I do. I like that Muslims insist on each and every act being measured out very carefully when we are judged. That insistence can seem pedantic and doctrinal and closeminded, but it can also keep us focused on what we do in each moment, keep us focused on living right right now. When we do that, this moment matters and how I interact with everyone else matters. So there is the truth that "instant karma's gonna get you", but there is also the truth that it is not for us to be the ultimate arbiters. If you have to check that out very humbly, quietly, don't pretend to know more than you do. Don't pretend to be better than you are--because the pretending won't help you or change your situation. But don't pretend to be worse than you are either--that's another form of hubris. There is a pardon at the end if you earn it. But once you start paying attention to what you do, you will not be able to go back to being careless without knowing full well that you have chosen to be careless. We all have different destinies or dharmas to pursue, but there is no such thing as a free lunch, there is no theft or rape or unnecessary judgment or false pride that goes unnoticed. In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna shows Arjuna that he will follow his destiny whether he wants to or not. In the Book of Malachi, God tells his prophet that everyone will be judged by the divine law written on their own hearts.
You can't run from your heart, so be forewarned; you can't run from your heart, so there is always a divine aspect within you.
Thirty years after the crime,
a pardon is written.
The prisoner walks free.
No one understands freedom
and humility the same way.
If you have to stay locked in,
stay there. Just barely survive.
Hold your tongue. People don't believe
convicts' stories
about innocence. Not with chains
dogging their steps.
Be strict. Don't imagine you are free.
One day, long after hope is gone,
you will taste a difference
in the air and the light.
Get up. Demand your release.
When the prisoner and the ruler
are the same, the jailer
has no choice. He is also you.
Stay until you are changed.
Then get up and leave.
The good citizens believe they have
freedom, equality.
But you left that pedestrian lifestyle
long ago. You can't return.
There is something in the air that
only stone walls, old mortar,
and bread and water
bring to us.
Don't escape. Leave when your time comes.
Discipline brings a gift. A note is attached:
Set discipline down so you can
accept this gift with both hands.
Copyright 2007 Todd Mertz