Sunny’s Lament

Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me . . . .—William Shakespeare

Before I place the asp upon my breast,
My God, before I pull the trigger back…
I have a song to sing that suites me best:
The pain I dish today is black on black
And brings a dreadful new beginning now,
For who can stand before the throne and plead
With “guilty” written boldly on her brow?
My note’s complete, I ask for one last deed:
That family watch my children every day,
Just like they have while I’ve been bare and numb,
Laid waste by Beelzebub—a devilish way
To leave this world, and yet I have his gun…
I’ll take the wings of morning, Lord, I plead,
For even deep below Your hand shall lead.†

Sunny left her Bible open to Psalm 139 before she took her own life: 

If I take the wings of the morning
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there your hand shall lead me (Psalm 139:9, 10.

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Shaking the Dust

 

“Long is the way / And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light”John Milton, Paradise Lost

 (For Tracie Pratt)

Today she celebrates the Savior’s birth,

Worships the light, in fullness yet unseen.

But errant hearts distort the light of earth.

Again they scourge the Son of Man, her King.

While season’s clamor muffles Christendom,

Impious hearts embrace the wintry frost,

The ones for whom rebirth may never come.

Then Advent passes, notwithstanding cost.

She seeks the strength to speak the boldest truth,

Then shakes the dust, withdraws and moves along.

The burden Jesus takes, and now is gone.

Henceforth, she judges not and speaks in love:

His saving graces descending like a dove.

DB Lindsey Jr

25 December 2005