|
with the parts of our soul
that submit, laying down on dark altars? the parts that giggle and groan and weep, beneath and behind glass frames? the parts that beat trowels into daggers and burn all the seeds, take mallets and chisels into the mines to wound, steal, be stripped and stained, to bleed alongside others in shadow? Why do we pretend they are hidden? Have they finally closed their mouths? Are they sitting quietly in cold sad corners, unseen and unheard? No. The feeblest dissemblers among us cannot keep them chained. They come screeching, smashing all our fables, hurling fire on each new name. Perhaps they slink and sneak to meet the One who hums-- “I will sprinkle you with hyssop. I will wash you. I will make you whiter than snow.” Perhaps they hope against the dark their offerings might be redeemed? Maybe we should bring them out to meet Him? -- Blake Kilgore is the author of Leviathan (Hapless Hip Books, 2021), a collection of poems wrestling with faith and doubt. He teaches history and coaches basketball during the workday and tries his best to love his wife and four sons when he goes home. His writing has appeared in many fine journals, recently including Vita Poetica, Fare Forward and Pensive: A Literary Journal of Spirituality and the Arts. You can find out more at blakekilgore.com.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |