I denied the Lord
and pounding from down deep
the hope I’ve been asleep,
and, waking, find I’ve never said a word.
–
The words just tumbled out my mouth (again)
Why can’t they take a hint?
The turncoat clots that hang on tight
and talk and trick and trip
Wherever Je…the Rabbi goes
They won’t shut up!
–
And I denied the Lord.
And to a servant maid!
And yes I was afraid,
like terror unexplored.
–
I’m prepared for death, I said.
But not just here… like this.
Or not found out by cunning cheats
nor chatted out by village maids.
I’d die in in battle—sure
but never bound and beat
–
and now I stand with ringing ears
and look around,
vehement denials in the air,
that turn inquisitors away
and leave me standing free…
and feeling bound.
–
I denied the Lord
and yet He turns to see.
He looks outside…at me
a quiet grief outpoured
–
And so I weep and turn aside
from living things
and feel my dredging up from deep
inside
the gall of pride and lies and all
and yet
–
He looked at me.