The Arms of the Father

With one swift kick
With one quick pull of the rug
I tumble from my tunnel
Into labyrinthine catacombs
Somehow carnal
In horripilation
I ache to be held
To arouse my senses
Back to some sense of
Sacred tutelary warmth

Each serpentine passageway
Dead end -- forgetten tombs
Each foreboding corridor
Dead end -- crumbling charnels

I plead mercy, guidance
The path to redemption
The arms of the Father
But I stiffen
In purgative struggle
as clawed hands emerge
Each crack, each crevice
Tearing and gashing
My tainted vestments
Shredding and gouging
My remnant wafers of soul
Each bloodied droplet
Freezing like icicles
Upon my ravaged breast
I confess; I repent
To those arms of the Father
To those hands of the Son
To those claws of the Holy Ghost

©Breathe 1994

B_Home.jpg (1410 bytes) B_Poetry.jpg (1439 bytes) B_Chikara.jpg (1318 bytes)