Poetry

SONG AND THREAD

by Walter Boswell
03/23/19
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Song and Thread

Not even in the small things can the Lord be generous;

not even in the courting of simulated concern;

not even in the singing of this verse – a gentle note.

Beyond this I am not …          

but the favored son of a favorite song forgotten.

                                All this wasted symphony!

                Truth should be played in chronic rest.

How is it the Lord takes instrument in hand

                to steal away this last performance of calm?

                                Why has God made a corpse of me,

                and my body a meat-slab on a surgical frame?

What you efforted to music make

                 and reprieve by bow and string,

shall you now by reference of fate

              and use of heinous needle and fiber

                                see me stretched out in prolonged tapestry

                                                like some hide on grand display:

each thread carefully sewn into specialized pattern,

then meticulously withdrawn from its woven place,

                per the conspiracy and compromised signal,

                                awaiting the pull of just one string

that will unravel the production

               and the hopes of there ever being life at all?

Improvements in Equity

All the construction value of Christianity bids,

make a legal site for Him within your heart –

                with welcome bars on your doorposts

                                and binders on your gates.

All spirits are free, and Himself a nomad, too;

but has the Lord Jesus become just a vagrant

used to baring all among the bushes and nettles

                or fond of sleeping on park benches

                                or curled up in the alley

                                scorned beside the refuse bin …

that He should make mine inheritance unwind,

                become a place of squalor and sickness also

                as inducements to His dirtying and mayhem?

Though great developer I am not, conceited in me,

thus may I too concede from a memory reformed

He who was to come, foresworn to work

                                as refurbishing boarder:

                becoming            partial to that trashing …

without a fearful pane unbroken,

                                or a vengeful tack unhammered,

gladly leaving me from His prefabricated visit

                as both debtor and creditor

of a customized and consecrated home.

Dr. Walter Boswell

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