Sunday, August 25, 2013

The Scripture was reading me

The Scripture was reading me,
tripping sensibilities flat on their faces,
upending understanding, biases,
cultural expectations, uncovering
discomfort, anger, perplexing
my confirmations all because it
wouldn’t tell me what I wanted,
what I expected to and demanded to want,
confounding my tightly constructions,
my view, my line of sight, casting
a light on the interior shadows,
launching an attack on what previously
been an impregnable fortress, or so
I believed. Seven times the Scripture
read me, until with a shout
the walls collapsed.

Photograph by Alex Grichenko via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.


Jerry said...

Surprise ending! I pray that scripture reads me too!

S. Etole said...

Scripture has a way of doing that, doesn't it?!

Robbie Pruitt said...

Nice Poem!

nance said...

and then
the scripture
moved in