Thursday, May 13, 2010

The poison garden



The poison garden
always open for business;
no reassuring lock,
no drawbridged moat -
here be dragons in bloom.
My dragons,
readying for me
their gaping maws,
their singeing breath.
They remember my name
always, always,
when I’ve unforgotten theirs.
Speaking, belonging,
welcome home.
The path has no safe passage
no endearing charm
but calls with siren song,
in disguise of wonder,
to the adam in my soul.
The gate is closed
but my fingers
draw close to the handle.

2 comments:

Cami said...

Wow, what an excellent expression of what is always within us, without the grace of God daily to draw upon, and to draw us OUT - "but for the grace of God, go I"!

Doug said...

I like the part about having no charm but something in it still calls us like the destructive siren of old.