Manacles, chafed

After Galatians 4:4-7

The manacles, chafed

and chafing, dirtied and

stained his wrists, flakes

of metal coloring his skin

like rings, tightening. 

The manacles, reminding

him of his status, his bounds,

his binding, his place

without future. The manacles,

too, bind his ankles, the metal

tattooing its presence,

a sign that he was a prisoner,

a slave, born without prospect

of redemption.

Someone, a voice, called him

a son, the voice heard first

in his ears before his heart;

he was called son. Manacles

snapped open, the stains

washed off. And then he heard,

first in his ears before his heart,

the voice calling him

with a new name:

heir.

Photograph by Stephen Hickman via Unsplash. Used with permission.