The Christian Artist
A Christian artist should be blazingly bold, a branded communion with
creativity that is conceived in flaming embers, searing
the bleeding-hope from arms, elbows, throat and allowing molten tongue to
goldenly lavish poetry upon lilies, upon fields, upon altars, upon stained glass
and breathe deeply a pristine snowlace rapture.
Instead, I bury my head in mediocrity cleaned
With Epsom salts and tepid bathwater, cradling my empty slingshot
Against a million imagined Goliaths
And pushing myself away from the communion table for no reason
Other than I’m afraid my shoes don’t match my skirt.
1 comment
Beautiful blog - beautiful poem!
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