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.