Spiritual Perestroika

June 19th, 2009 by Clem

Break me into the finest grains
Of sand
Better still into the highest grade
Of clay
For what worth is left in this
Tortured breath
Hosting a damaged soul.

I know you came for the
Pieces blown apart by violence and greed
And those drowned in material lust

Oh, Jesus, my first and last
Sanctuary
Kindly fix up my brokenness
On your next tour redemption

And please
Let my penance be lighter
Than your cross
… my passion no graver
Than a tampered child’s

First caress

Comments (1)

  • MarilynM:
    December 6, 2009 6:21 am

    Hi Sir Clem,
    the first paragraph is imprinted in my mind forever, just like the Rags for Heaven and the Rhythms in Exile. I’m glad I was a part in the making of your first volume.

    MM

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