God haunted house
how to be in this God haunted house,
I Mr imperfect:
short sighted and tone deaf
I saw things move as by a poltergeist,
heard thuds as though a carpenter lived between floors.
I could not ask and hear.
I'm sure she spoke but I wouldn't listen.
I don't want to know about him;
I want him
I can't have placating words,
I need love I can feel
I know it in my bones
but my flesh is all serpent like;
in it's own oil spill
of fear and greed
needing a saving, cleanup operation
I'm sure you want to;
but I do not dare.
I take a deep breath
and look out of the window
I see it's raining
and almost trip as a I rush outside
I hope that the rain itself is the tears
of the one my heart seeks
I cry myself; knowing his grief
Freezing I know the loneliness of all of His
I'm made one of them.
I didn't know how to live
in this God haunted house,
I a son,
I still wrestle with doubt in my darkness
I worship silently, unworthily,
I feel the cross of the world wearing me
I'm sure I can't live in this without the haunter...
Copyright © Ross Thompson | Year Posted 2011
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