Vol 9, Num 23 :: 2010.12.17 — 2010.12.30
Editor’s note: This poem was composed in response to Luci Shaw’s “”http://poetryindex.blogspot.com/2009/08/too-much-to-ask.html">Too Much to Ask," which appears in her collection Accompanied by Angels: Poems of Incarnation.
The sting remembered makes me scream
Til echoes fill my soul,
Desperate to smother the filth and the shame,
Against the will of God.
For the stench of wickedness that filled the air
When I was burned before Him,
Was to Him a sweet smelling savor
Of things to come, of that which would summon His glory.
Yet indeed it seemed too much to ask me,
To be part of this dreaded Thing.
For God’s shocking, unorthodox, unheard of way,
To urge me to Him to run,
Would be the brief junction of flesh with flesh,
Forced by my mother’s son.
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