Today, a stunning poem read for us by the Author, Elizabeth Waldron Anstess. (You may remember her from this podcast.)
Listening to poets reading their own words is a deep pleasure. This is very much the case here
If you’ve ever been dead
then you’ll know what I mean
in the dirt and the worms
how it’s hard to keep clean
.
If you’ve ever been killed
then you’ll know how the quiet
is hollow and dreadful
yet feels loud as a riot
.
If you’ve ever been slaughtered
you know it’s not pretty
face down in the dump
outside of the city
.
If you’ve ever been pierced
by a thorn or a sword
or the thousand small cuts
of the well meaning word
.
If you’ve ever been slain
by benevolent power
by the armies of time
by small turns of the hour…
.
Though, was it the state?
or the mob crying loud?
or the church? or the kiss
of your friend in the crowd?
.
or
.
was it your words?
or was it your deeds?
was it just that the grain
grows alongside the weeds?
.
was it just the plain bloodlust
of men bent to kill?
or was it your faith?
or was it God’s will?
.
was is just wanton?
was it a waste?
was it a sacrifice?
was it disgrace?
.
was it a debt ?
was it the doubt?
was it inevitable
time would run out?
.
if you’ve ever been dead
you’ll have seen the mark
of blood where God lay
in the dead of the dark
.
You’ll know that he’s been there
laid out on slab stone
with faith all in shreds
and hope bare as a bone
.
If you’ve ever been dead
you’ll know this strange thing
in death there is neither
criminal or king
.
In death only God,
only love with such strength
just love of such holy
depth height breadth and length
.
if you’ve ever been dead
then you’ll know theres a crack
in the cosmos
where God’s love breaks death
and comes back.
