A Gethsemane Prayer
I am a requiem for the masses;a priest in a synagogue,
a rabbi at communion,
an altar boy in the battlefield of desire
who was murdered for the host.
I am a fraction of theHoly Order
who was numbered by their beast
for the scapegoat crucifixion
that would pacify
their peace.
I am a celibate
in the temple
of your passion;
a monk without a key
in a monastery jungle
of isolated rooms.
And I am an aging fool for love;a hand voluntarily offered for the nail
clasped in the pleading prayer pose
of a Gethsemane garden long forgotten:
"O my Father, if it be possible,
let this cup
pass from me."
| The above is an excerpt from "Relationships and Other Crimes of Passion", a book of poetry by p.donovan © 2005 |
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