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Poem: “Visions”


By Patrick T. Reardon

I see the hand of God

write on the wall

the sins of the king.

I see the bloody knife.

I see the father

lead the son to slaughter.

I smell the burning bush.

I see the furnace,

three inside unburnt.

I hear the walls fall,

taste bitter herbs before travel,

stand on sacred ground,

see the salt woman, the honey and milk land,

the river red with blood.

I see the face of God

I hear the Lord speak my name.

I feel the touch of fearful blessing.

Patrick T. Reardon


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