Like a Prophet’s Repentant Cry
(a minor minor minor prophet)

I am a sinner
Yes
And if I could cry to the hills
Not because God is there
Because God
Like Banksy and Kilroy
And as
We know
God is everywhere

But hills are curved
Easy on the eyes
And beg
Distance
For reflection
Trying to establish vision
Of the Lord
And of my out there
With God
And also in the world
At least among
The open terrain
Like hills

And I ask for repentance
As in
Maybe there’s a spring
To go to
Near the crest
Or in a dell
And I might wash my face
My head that is
The major sinning place
Nearly all
The things that go awry
Beginning there

And if
Forgiven
I may turn
Go back to town
Or
Wherever
Work or play might
Take me next

And it’s a round
Rather
A cycle
Sin and pardon
With petition
Reconciliation in between
Which for now
I guess
Has to be all right
God has seen
Has sensed it all

Truly knows the
Within
All that’s in
My head and
Heart

What is it now
The Bible law
More than that
Sacred direction
And
Tradition
Loving the Lord with all
Our minds
Our strengths
Our souls

Like the speaker in the famous poem
I have so far to go
Deep miles
Snowbound by peccadilloes
And
Peccata mundi
Through spring is at hand
Like God’s hand

And should we take that
Even climb into it
(God’s hand
after all)
Our repentance might become more like
Lachrymose
Mundi
A world of tears
A world of
Forceful tears
As in tears
Starting with tears
That rain
After sins

Vital
Creative
(unique)
And creating tears
As Jesus filled
Jerusalem
But now beginning in irony
Perhaps
Of sins
Of one’s own
Of mine

C L Couch


Photo by Simon Ray on Unsplash