Monday, March 31, 2008

upper room

from the corners
of our doubts
come the claustrophobic
'it's their fault . . .
. . . how many times . . .?'

in the solace
of the shadows,
fingers stiffen in accusation:
'i wasn't the one . . .
. . .you said you would never . . .!'

churns the room,
as we wait for
hate's hobgoblins
to jump out, yelling,

you come,
parting our tears
to bring us out
of grief's slavery;

putting your finger
in our fissured faith
to make it whole;

sweet, simple
peace . . .

(c) 2008 Thom M. Shuman

1 comment:

Ron said...

a powerful prayer, my friend, that captures the feelings of being locked up in fear. it was the theme of my sermon yesterday, and now it comes back to minister to me. thank you.