Molten lead

After Luke 4:16-30

His words poured into our ears

like molten lead, heat and agony

and pain slicing our souls,

this one we’ve known since childhood

who’d never given a sign

of disrespect, his words edged

in anger as if we were the ones

at fault, the ones blaspheming,

instead of the disdain pouring

from his mouth, pouring

on our ears, such dishonor

never heard before. And we knew

this traitor in our midst

must die.

Photograph by Chetan Menaria via Unsplash. Used with permission.

There is no word

After Isaiah 6

There is no word

to describe his holiness

there is no word

sufficient to explain

the perfection of his holiness.

Instead of words we hide

his holiness within the wings

of seraphs, within the disguise

of smoke; from within the smoke

comes the live coal to burn

my lips and make me fit,

to hide my face in his presence,

to make me fit for use.

Without the coal, my seams

fray and separate as I atomize

into nothingness.

Photograph by Michael Drummond via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

The tambourine man

After Isaiah 24

The tambourine man played

his song, and his songs,

jangling our ears and eyes

with his music, until he slowed

and stopped, dropping his tambourine

to the floor. He looked at us

in surprise, in pain, as if he had

forgotten the notes and the words,

music sliding from his memory

and ours until only silence

remained.

Photograph by Lilla Frerichs via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.