Ready?

by

Joris John Heise

Large prisons lock bad guys away;
Yeah, smaller jails change petty crooks to evil seed.
And every foetus dwells within its own dome
While aged selves end long days in resting rooms—
These sealed-in sojourns keep folk far from friends;
Sometimes, they’re choices, past courage or contempt.

Though time might change such a sealed-in self
Toward being born--from being a blind, bent, helpless soul
Toward breathing and toward sights of ecstasy,
Away from treading in tiny cells the measly restlessness
Toward cries of joy, toward tears of treasuring love.

The strange feature in breaking of the bread
Is that He’s seen by some. The others stay
As dead as prisoners of hell--a scene without
Belief, minus a miracle, absent the meaning of release—
Remote from such peace as He pours readily.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Where The Bog Cotton Grow
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Joris John Heise's poems, click HERE

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