Poem: God rolled off my tongue

I wrote this poem several years ago, sometime after I’d decided I wanted to spent a good deal of my life studying and teaching theology. It was edited with the help of an old college and work buddy named Josh Hughes, who was (and, I’m sure, still is) a better poet than I.

God rolled off my tongue
with such ease

from synapse to soul he climbed, effortlessly
past fleshly folds

skid across red ridges, slid through the gap in white
and burst into the open air

only to be ensnared
in a feral exchange –

there he hangs, a quiet explosion
a final gloss suspending

fractured ivory and cloven speech,
cleft lips and broken teeth

incapable of anything
but dead inarticulations, groaning

with creation,
the only utterable truth:

my ruined tongue needs
a new word.

[© STP]


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