In Loving Memory of God

(29 January 2002)

 

   The last time that I tore my clothes to shreds

   And dressed in sacks, with ashes on my head

   And fell upon my knees at Mercy Seat,

   I thought of you, my God, and you seemed real.

 

      The last time I placed lamb upon the stone--

      A lamb that I had raised by my own hand

      And tearfully I slit its precious throat--

      I drowned beneath the power of your love.

 

         The last time Holy Wrath made justice real

         Before my eyes, condemning sin with fire,

         I knew your truth could defeat temptation,

         And whispered, "God forgive my vicious heart."

 

            The last time Heaven bent the world for man

            And sickness melted from a broken heart

            I watched a friend I'd loved rise from the dead

            And felt your awesome name upon my lips.

 

Where is the Ghost so fiery in our texts?

   Where is your magic in the world today?

      Where have you gone, or from you where have we?

Or have we killed you at last?