Scotchful Thoughts on Treason & War
You’re stronger than Scotch, though that’s not what my throat urgently screams at the moment. Ah, the struggles of an artist, a mystic, one whose deep cries out for yours – to express the inexpressible. To package in words that which can’t be contained. You’ve caringly — lovingly, even — taken me, torn open my chest, pulled out my heart, and have affectionately run my broken body into your knee such that I am torn in two
_____– one spirit, one flesh:
All of reality stands at this heralding moment:
_____Wide-eyed, eager – youthful
Hands on knees looking forward, rocking back
_____so on and so forth they watch:
_____smiles ear to ear.
The fateful moment, the Climax now stepping forward
_____to take the mark-missed darts.
_____Victory is now here.
It happens — the tension of millennia bearing down:
_____the clash of flesh and steel.
_____Rain begins to fall . . .
. . .
_____. . .
__________. . .
Was that it? The answer to treason on the lips of men?
_____Surely there had to be another way!
_____(They long to look again.)
Was the debt this large, so costly the price?
_____To sacrifice Beauty on the altar of ashes?
_____For what could be?
No framework to work from, no pardon to see.
_____This can’t be the way, it can’t!
_____(Super-abound in deed!)
Once more: was this the debt? How large the cup?
_____To pour all that’s worthy for all that’s not.
_____Ah, now it is revealed:
Not for worth of sins now atoned,
_____but unto the worth of the One that was wronged.
It was repaid not to me when I sinned, perverting what was right
He has redeemed my life from the pit and now I look upon the light.
[read my other Holy Week poetry here]