Sunday, February 1, 2015

The walls of Jericho

Standing at the well,
clutching my pitcher,
I try everything I can
   think of

Custom: yours do not
   associate with mine
Tradition: are you greater
  than the ancestors
Material: spare me
   from my work
Theology: is it better
   to worship in Jerusalem

each block, each wall
I erect, each obstacle
my words create,
he knocks down,
without effort

He strips my defenses
He destroys my resistance
He sears my soul
   with the hot knife
   of his words
His voice tears through me
   leaving me spent
   yet alive

He circles the walls of Jericho
  blowing his horns
He comes from the chosen
   to save the unchosen
   to save the rejected
   to save the despised

I tremble.

His words shatter the glass,
shards falling to the stone,
shattering, leaving slivers
and pointed sand
beneath my feet
and his own

Painting: The taking of Jericho, gouache on board (1896-1902) by James Jacques Joseph Tissot (or follower); Jewish Museum, New York.


Martha Jane Orlando said...

This is magnificent, Glynn! Superb imagery as always.

S. Etole said...

So much to think on in this.