April Anthology 2018 - Chapter 1

In the midst of pastel wonder

And dizzy heat,

Too-bright sun

And prayer-garden azaleas,

I wish I could say

“I am listening, speak.”

What I say instead is

“Shut up no please”

Is

“Not that again, not that one”

Is

“It is only a little cup, but let it pass from me.”

My king, he sucked in breath again this morning,

On a slab of stone -

And played the greatest joke the world has known

In the teeth of the Devil’s laughter.

My devil, she’s still laughing.

Is this Sunday, or Gethsemane?

Shake loose my winding-cloths

And let my heart Spring forth for thee.