Sunday, September 12, 2010

Againrising - Joy Davidman

The stroke of six
my soul betrayed;
as the clock ticks
I am unmade;

the clock struck nine;
my life ran down
on gears of time
with a sickened sound.

The noonday struck
a note of pride;
spread on the clock
I was crucified

The clock struck one;
whose spear, whose dart
transfixed by bone
and narrow heart

The sound of seven
filled me with bells;
I left great heaven
for little hells;

the midnight let
my blood run out
fierce and red
from my opened mouth

Great chaos came
to murder me
when the clock named
the hour of three

The dawn grew wide;
the clock struck five
and all inside
I was alive.

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