Weeping is the willow
Winding is the street
Wanton is the lust
that comes from me
It’s my being
That is what
God talks to me
In my flesh
This eternal Being
Sees me
As I am
Encapsulated in corpulence
Ensconced in that which
Ever since
Drawn from clay
Has been
Against me
spirit man.
I love the Lord
Yet in me
There remains
No converted thing
Deathly flesh
Deathly being
The dirty thing
From which we spring
Amen?
God sees
Choose Him
Over our very being
And the death
It brings.
Dust to dust, dirty things.