After Luke 8:26-39
I wander among the tombs,
rocks in the desert, stones
and scorpions for my companions;
I mutter and moan, tearing
at my clothes, my skin; the voices
within me shouting, clamoring,
accusing, laughing, ridiculing,
denigrating, destroying what little
is left until the legions are silenced,
suddenly, forced into pigs, drowned,
leaving a nearly dead husk behind.
And he tells me not to follow but
to go, go to my city, proclaim what
has happened. I walk, then run,
through the fear, leaving them behind,
following instead the command.
Photograph by Loubos Houska via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.