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A tradesman’s son and temple secrets die
in sixty nine years, never knowing why.

Contempt delivered their first child perfect,
your childhood gauntlet galvanized neglect.

A mother’s son and her abuse still lie
in sixty nine years, never knowing why.

Too something when her final moments came.
Without confession laid to rest the same.
So was it from the bosom or the flame
the day you heard her call your name?

Consistent honor you bestowed on them,
corollas shredded by thorns on the stem.

Forgiveness took away the rage and strife.
I saw in you, The Way, The Truth, The Life.

With mind and humor, your genetic gifts.
Denatured strands surrendered protein fifths.

All needs provider who was always there.
Divine command parental judgement fair.

Devout corrections laid by word or hand
within a dying culture’s screams withstand.

Alone in Scripture’s cords you did demand 
of God’s own virtue, I was taught to stand.

Around your house, collect and to revive
those things of a past that keep you alive.

In every dream that keeps you coming back,
contorts the dawn and colors out from black.

For just a moment, it’s time they defy,
recasts the morning of our last goodbye.

To take a final look and to work through
regrets till each tear welcomes a thank you

When given no tomorrow to be sown,
has sin become the marrow of the bone?
Eternal light now nothing left unknown,
divergent gateways from the triune throne.

The flesh, the bone, to bits, to grit, to ash.
The fires refine the gold and purge the trash.

A common trust in blood for us he died,
to keep our spirits, Hell to be denied.

Forgotten wages slowly turn a knife,
see you again, The Way, The Truth, The Life.

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Form: Iambic Pentameter
Written: 06.13.19 – 06.14.19
Contest: Move Me
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
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