A Poem

While riding in the car yesterday, I wrote this poem. It started as just a thought but then it clustered itself on the page of my notebook like a  poem, so that is what I thought it should be.

Under Control 

Jesus came
that God could be up close
in your face
cheek to cheek
toe to toe
thigh bone to thigh bone
elbow linking elbow

Spirit came
that God could be inside
through your veins
leaping your synapses
behind your eyeballs
vibrating your chords
beating your drum

Whoa, Jesus!
Chill, Spirit!
You need to be divinized
homogenized
commercialized
stamped and shipped
ripped open
rewrapped
returned to sender

There ya’ go!
Under control!

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2 Responses to A Poem

  1. Tim says:

    I loved the poem
    And what do you knoe?
    I learned a new spelling
    For the word elboe!

    The poem was so good,
    You knoe what then?
    I forwarded it on
    To my friend Pat Renn.

    • Judy says:

      Gol-darn, Tim. When I wrote this poem in the car, I wrote “elboe”. Then when I transposed the poem onto my blog page, it looked odd to me so I turned to “The Oxford Dictionary and Thesaurus” and found the spelling to be “elbow”. I think I was getting elboe and oboe mixed up. I knoe what an oboist does but I can’t figure out what an elboist does. If we could only play our elboes we could leave our ukuleles home. (I have been awake since 2 am and have been drinking coffee since. When that happens I start thinking like my friend Tim.)

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