The Conversion of Saul of Tarsus
By poetjude
- 1793 reads
I did not know how hard it was
To kick against the stones, to pound the goads
With tendon and leather and stubborn fists, beating, breathing threats and slaughter.
I rose from the ground drinking sand and sun.
It was over - folded back into the hollow sky so empty
Yet I could not cry.
I was blind, clawing hot prickly eyelids
But there was nothing '
Nothing except fear to
Lead me in into an uncertain future,
I had to hold another's hand and trust and follow -
The road to Damascus.
Three days for a lifetime of regret and bitter
Throbbing pain beneath a howling hunger.
Fierce pain and pride truly broken
Like a pitcher from the low table in the night.
Ananias, I never knew why men like us
Were either you or me, and I could feel your
Handsome hands and the goodness, the clean smell and smooth skin
That touched my eyes and it all fell away
Something like scales shed like a snakes' skin
Like the feather dust on an owl's wing.
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