Free Verse
Purgatorial
grace
What is it that
you envelop Lord,
how do you experience your creatures?
I foolishly think I know myself,
shallow understandings of my depths,
dark interiors the dwelling place,
or perhaps a place of hiding
where hidden demons dwell
waiting to be awakened.
Yet you love what you see;
what would crush me
you embrace with infinite love
and yes with compassion.
How can this be?
“Love your neighbor as yourself”.
Such a strange thing to tell a species,
filled with self destructive impulses
projected outwards to be expressed,
exquisite pain bestowed on others
and yes received from others selves
in equal measure.
One day these inner sanctums,
hiding places of frightened angry things,
will all come to the surface,
brought to the light,
all masks torn away,
scapegoats seen for what they are,
a waiting game keeping truth at bay;
purgatorial grace.
Virtues’ exposed for what they are,
a thin layer over the irrational depths,
what has been rejected
seeking resolution,
a moment of truth none can escape.
Lord of our flesh,
you carried our weight,
a burden you bear still,
for it is love's joy
to seek out the beloved
and not rest until consummation.
I am often tempted to doubt,
to despair,
yet I am upheld
grace unasked for
yet freely given,
no rest until I return.
How can I judge others?
Look down upon them,
knowing what lays hidden below,
for at times I see their faces,
these little satans,
teeth gleaming,
rage deep and primordial
that only your love can heal.
