I saw you
emaciated,
hungry,
with a hole inside
that could not be filled
with mercy
(though I tried).
With the cunning
of a judo master,
With the cunning
of a judo master,
you took my food
milk of human kindness
and turned it into
something foul,
something foul,
fuel for self-destruction,
an ugly, noxious thing,
a flame
that gives no warmth,
only ash.
And so I waited for the end,
And so I waited for the end,
wrote the obit,
held my breath,
picked out my widow’s weeds.
But you have emerged
from the fire,
cleansed,
purified,
a degenerate angel
transformed to man.
And now I see the truth:
that all our darkest moments
8 comments:
I hope we all have the ability to rise from the ashes..even when lovingly accompanied I guess it's a task we must do alone..mighty words
March 26, 2014 at 9:41 AMLove the way he emerges from the fire transformed.
March 26, 2014 at 10:18 AMThis is lovely, Ann.
March 26, 2014 at 2:35 PMHow did he manage that? Let's hope the leopard has changed his spots after all. What a great picture you painted here.
March 26, 2014 at 6:54 PMBeautifully expressed ...great images and let us hope the degenerate angel transformed to a man is an improvememnt:)Enjoyed this.
March 26, 2014 at 9:10 PMI was always fascinated by phoenix :) Beautifully written :)
March 27, 2014 at 5:25 AMWhat are widow weeds?
March 27, 2014 at 6:33 AMFantastic insight. This is excellent.
March 27, 2014 at 2:02 PMPost a Comment