And then maybe this is me
Just a dying leafless tree
As the winter cold sets in
Blighted and beset by sin
Sin as separation from
All that could have should have come
Yet alone here on the plain
I alone erect in pain
Pain always my mind besetting
Leaves no chance of e’er forgetting
Sole discarded cold debris
And then maybe this
Is me
But is there no hope of redemption? You write so well, of a lost soul… I have to wonder, is there no spring?
There is always a spring after the winter, but one must live through one to get to the other. I believe in joy because I have have known it.
Thank you for reading and taking time to comment.
Thanks for your answer. I was hoping you would say that. And it’s true…you have to get through it to see another spring.
Sin as separation from
All that could have should have come…
Interesting conception of sin. But isn’t sin what separates us from God?
I use the word with care since many people shut down when confronted with the concept of sin; the word itself is viewed as a shibboleth.
Quite right. It’s like dropping the G- bomb…
But who cares.
Sin, heaven,hell, judgement. doom, torment, salvation, forgiveness – these are the TRULY relevant and interesting poetic topics…
The wusses who don’t want to deal with it can go read haikus about autumn leaves floating in temple pools.