Sunday, October 21, 2018


After Psalm 107:47

The moaning, groaning cries
pour from the carnivorous mouth,
a siren song that compels and
draws, a song that turns
a listener to stone, hard, inflexible,
impermeable, a burning surface,
flames erupting like serpents,
encircling my feet, wrapping
around my body, invading
my mind until all I hear 
is the pounding, the moans,
until I see it and know it.

I cry out, and gladness
overwhelms. I hear the music.

Photograph by Lucas Clarysse via Unsplash. Used with permission.

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