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The Box....
foolishly i cried
my face opens to you with all tears
so unlikely of my
present position but there is enough time for hiding
and it is already killing
a part of my body
and soul
and so today as you face me i have become less of a man
of this world
as i break open
the divine
that stoops, or even bows down and weeps
asking for forgiveness
beyond all this justice, love,
beyond love
what could it be possibly?
an openness for
the inevitable Lord
when you ask that i finally leave?
i confess my innocence
this unrepairable brokenness
this box....
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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