A Poem

I’ve wanted to do this for a while, but it feels just a bit narcissistic to post a poem when you have no training in writing poetry (a little like going on American Idol without voice training?)–wait, what am I talking about? I write on a blog for pity’s sake! Here it is:

YOU CHECK WITH JESUS

Cominí through the waters
Donít care if I drown or not
My mind slowly clear as the sparkle in your eye
These waters are bloody red
Muddy as all sin instead
My fingers peeled from any vestiges of shore
With a mad, strong man waving his club in a furor
Poorly dressed in these tatters of cloth
Washed from my frail body in an instant

Beaten to the punch by crucified hands
(Not that I was trying, understand)
Embraced in your liquid arms, close as a womb
Going down once, twice, thrice dark as a tomb
Finally gasping for a breath Iíve never before taken
And an old friend losing his grasp on my heel

Turned over in this river, I can see only sky
And a single cloud rimmed in brilliant silver
And a singular eye
Horizontal periphery flaming in its sheath
Like the sword of your mouth
Cominí to cut me free

Timotheos

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