Thursday in the Summer

Sink to the bottom of the ocean
With eyes turned upwards toward sky,
Where detachment illuminates consciousness
And eyes gaze unknowing towards freedom for the first time.
Cradled in waves of melody
While the world undulates and fades away,
Embrace the betrayal of senses
As warm asylum encompasses soul.
Enclosed in the caverns of spirit eternal
Where nothing seems to matter anymore,
Heart stops demanding things unobtainable
Only to find that fear and desire have no power to destroy.

In Whose Image.

I was the youngest of all of my brothers;
I was sickly and small and ill-timed.
Because I could not run so fast or think so cleverly
I was abandoned to die in the elements alone.
I reside in the darkness where I can find some shelter;
A cave of stench and stagnation and slime.
Into the pool my eyes behold a reflection
Sickly and small and ill-formed.
Skin ashen and meat clinging only loosely to bone.
In whose image was this creature forged?
Through what horror was his countenance so deformed?

Judas.

I shiver under the weight of all my sins;
I who have betrayed you.

Tears swell and burn and fall away
As fists and skull pound against brick.

Who can hope who has denied all hope?
Who can survive the uncovering of his secret shame?

I tremble because of the knowledge of my filth;
I who have betrayed you.

I have bowed down before the Golden Idol;
I have exchanged the truth for a lie;
I have bound up my heart in the blind folly of passion;
My tongue have I inflamed against you.

I shrink before your glory, Love,
I who have betrayed you.