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.
1.25.16
