Confession/Confession
Poem – Rory Grant
Mark 5:1-20
on this holy ground
I wander
barefoot, broken
lawless, breaking
naked before you
these stones they cut
the sharpness of life
lucid
bleeding
death
rises around me
a tomb of a thousand tiny cuts
inescapable and raw
madness
oppression
possession
hemmed in
by darkness and light
harsh as a razor
sharp as a stone
“Lord, most high”
a mocking voice
cracks my parched lips
Your eyes cut through my darkness
Your light of revelation
my confession of pain
a scream
a breath
the devil is in me
my demons they drown me
isolation/ocean
darkness/light
cruelty/night
sirens sound
within me
as family flee
the taint of my being
comes violence
comes me
don’t make me leave!
my tombstone certainty
gives shape to my dying
the maddening edge of shadow
sharper than a shiver
heat and cold
dark and bright
shards of light
cut my reality
like a ragged knife
shatters to slivers
wounding all who come near
bargaining for breathing space
instead I find freedom
at your feet
lays my brokenness
blessèd
relief
You are Prince of heaven
You are Lord of peace
You bring colour and shape
green pastures
still waters
where there had been
only the edge of existence
darkening light
I confess
I could stay
at Your side
forever
if only I could stay
in this moment
in this freedom
this peace
Your Spirit is in me
Your love it fills me
Your river found me
Your life it grounds me
exultation/elation
consolation/revelation
freedom/peace
