Father – Trinity, Pt. One

The boiling heat
begins at dawning.
Simmering? Sheets,
salt-wet, by morning.
Youth’s fever-dream,
guilt, ever-wrongful,
burns us deeply,
skin-scarring along
the maker’s seams.
We boil with longing.

Oppressive heat,
felt in the soul, as
it eats. This feast,
laid-bare, Sin-Eater’s
fare, commanded
by God. His decree,
despite beauty,
love, and peaceful
needs, commands us,
“You! Ignore these things!”

“Deny your needs!”
The mantra of the
deep, southerly
reach. Self-denying,
repressed and dying,
we fold inside… bleed.
“Just let us free!”
Unheeded pleas, lost
amidst hymn, verse,
and God’s cruelest needs.

We are the weeds.
The unwanted, growing
things that disturb
the view, spoil the green.
But, God, we sing!
We sing freedom to
just simply be.
Damn your Eden, it’s
not meant for me.
I’ll grow alone. Free.

God’s minions, each
and all, deprived me
of the tree’s fruit,
the seeds of wisdom.
Taught disgust, fear,
decades gone, before
I saw the veil,
and ripped it, raging,
into pieces, gauze,
to stop my bleeding.

Father / Son / Holy Ghost

©️ Obol, 2019.

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