Everyone needs to see this poem by Amaya, my long winded ramblings about it in the comments not so much. Ok everybody get ready to go a little limp in love…

Gospel Isosceles


I’m a ragdoll, carried by my God

I hear Jesus speak

Speak in a language I do not know

He takes my limp hand in his

Looks at my thumbnail

Addresses the atoms by name

I understand

They are neither male nor female

Like God or colors

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5 thoughts on “Ragdoll

  1. Here is my long-winded comment:

    That is the point of language, is it not? – “to go deeper in love”. – to bind us together in understanding, as CS Lewis’ student in “Shadowlands” said, “we read to know we are not alone.”
    The Spirit speaks that language that is subatomic, named by God but difficult to weave with our Babel-created templates, forged as the story go, when we were trying to get back to God as usurpers and language was confounded to separate us from each other in to tribes and more tragically, from God, but leaving, like a beacon, a longing to know that forgotten language we come closest to when we reflect and emulate the taking of the hand, like when Jesus looks tenderly at our thumbnail in your poem, that is when we come closest to truth and love, to be self-referential again “I feel it best as arms wrapped round sinking shoulders”
    Anyway, sheesh I am a rambling on again, and not even being perfunctory, 😉
    This poem is so wonderful and complex and simple. I have read it several times ignoring or shifting the breaks and punctuation to find layers of meaning and viewpoints, with subjects shifting into verbs then back into objects- direct or indirect… here are a few I found:
    I’m a ragdoll, carried by.
    My God! I hear Jesus speak.

    I do not know He takes my limp hand in his looks…

    Like God.

    I love just reading this in an unbroken cascade and hearing a new ripple or murmur in the stream with each little turn of the kaleidoscope (I am not mixing metaphors, the backstory is that there was a kaleidoscope floating in the brook, 😏
    I am so grateful for this poem, I have spent so many years thinking I was diligently finding God by running and shoveling and trying to be something based on some exegetical tribal standard, when really I was stiffening by body in God’s grasp. Oh, to be a ragdoll, limp and pliant in the embrace of the One who is expert in being as a little child, and has the loving condescension to know me with the same wonder. This poem is so perfect.


    1. In our defiance we stiffen and because of the discomfort, can even come to hate the one holding and keeping us dear. Many turn to drugs to awaken those synapses that have long been run over on the Babel superhighway and to once more sense the subatomic music of Love. How, wise Lona, can we help God to persuade the rebels and those dead-set on sticking to tribalist this-and-that that no one can better love us than God can, and that the embrace is the best thing in the world? The stiff ones look at us like we are weak. And what’s more, I am weak! I suppose I don’t yet know how to shine for God…

      I love seeing you dance with the poetry and it makes my day –the day– to know that this poem came alive for you.

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      1. I so want to participate in the Utopia prompt! I am exhausted though, simply played out, and I have been longing for Zion and the Expression of it here on earth, we see it enough to feel it can be hear, down the hall through a magic door, where the choice is made to just love as we are loved… but we are all so bad at it, like you said, we are weak. Christ knows. I certainly don’t know the answer to your question (I have been mulling it over), how do we help God persuade… etc (such a beautiful question!).
        The only answer I can think of is to try to live the imperatives of the right hand and the left hand- and serve “the least of these”. Again we are all sort of bad at it, but if it were easy it wouldn’t be worth it.
        I follow a wonderful site by a crb fay, in a long comment on the Kavanaugh/Ford debacle he asks a question not unlike yours, in its way. I don’t think persuasion or even truth is the point, I think the search and supposed attainment of truth more often leads to tribes and divisions. I don’t think we are here to win any arguments, none of it makes any sense anyway. The only reason why I feel God has put us here, our teleology, our purpose, is to love one another, forgive one another. Serve one another. But it’s going to hurt. If you turn the other cheek you are going to get slapped more often than not. But like I told Fay, kindness wins, but only because it doesn’t have to. I love the spirit of that I see in your writings Amaya, and in the glimpses of your life I see there. You do shine, maybe enough for government work, but not enough for God, but that’s ok, he isn’t done polishing us, sorry for the ramble, but I have been thinking on your question. The utopia prompt? You got me thinking on that too, it won’t finish in time, might take a LONG time, but you did get me started. Thank you Amaya. And I again love Ragdoll so much!!!


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