Sunday, February 10, 2008

the Lamb and the crooked

Oh let me know
by words or messenger
touch my hip or touch my throat
have you seen me this naked before?

You have caused me to lie down
but the pasture is in a valley
and fear cuts like a cold wind

I'm aware of you like no other time
my rising, my setting, my doing
must we wait and must it be here?

I have no knew song for you
will you stir my heart
and clothe me again?

Direct your loving kindness towards me
let your rod comfort me, even the security
of loved arms and hearts don't have enough
weight to shift these scales

I feel the burn of your fire and the pull of the splinter
as it comes out, don't mind my whimper, i don't want
to miss its presence, i've had these crooked teeth and thoughts
for too long, i'm done with my deformity, ready for your image

hold my hand lamb,
i the wound giver
how lovely your pierced brow
how lovely your surrender
how lovely your compassion
i will live in your sacrifice
i will join you if you will have me
feed me so i can feed your sheep


Israel said...

So many times i have felt these words, so many times i have done the same. With the knowledge i am not alone, i find comfort because i've felt allergic to myself and my desires. i find comfort because i know there is hope. there is hope, hope that comes from a bigger source, that will quench our emptiness, and bring tears of joy once again. Hallelujah

bruce pearson said...

i love this. this is your best poem. bam shazam.