He called me friend...
The resonance of Voice gave birth to Life,
His ancient hands, yet ever new, were stained by clay,
shapes emerged, functional works of art.
A foot, then leg, hand and ear.
Never before seen, eternally imagined.
From here forward...forever.
Shapes unite to emerge a temple, one so fragile, strong as flesh.
Law, the Rule for man, he spoke,
One so true. Darkness dies.
But wait, alive again, it fights.
Revived by law itself, awake.
The temple shakes, it trembles, falls.
Alive, then dead, absence rules.
Longing waits, it envies Life, relief is gone.
Voice, in sorrow, can't be heard.
The voice...a temple becomes his robe.
Darkness fights again for life.
Darkness finds it's death in Him.
Life can't flee, for He is Life.
The voice sounds dim upon the tree.
Life seems dead, it can't be true.
Then the voice explodes in Word.
the final Word, the Rule fulfilled.
Life found death, now death meets Life.
Never again to win the fight.
The Word of Life, the final Word.
Alive again, for temples sake.
Temple watches and heeds the call.
Word brings breath to temple walls.
Breath brings Life again, again...
Temple light, shining bright,
clothed in Word, clearly seen.
He called me Friend...
John 15:8-17
1 comment:
So the overall effect is less because of a few things: an error, diction, and punctuation. I can delineate that if you wish.
But the image of a temple whose walls are of flesh. The nuanced use of near rhyme in the final 2 staves. The anthropomorphization of the elements of the poem: Voice, Life, temple, Word.
It's something beautiful, Kevin
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