Imago Dei
We cannot help but be students
of our fathers’ disciplines,
mine an avid disciple
of scripture and royalty.
What else can I confess?
That I was a child? I carved myself
into the civil shape of a knife.
Pared until only the edge remained.
I killed things because I could.
Magnifying glass and the sun
and the silent crawling things that
could not fight back.
That had no choice but to only
hope for mercy. Unable themselves
to beg. I confess. I was desperate
to know that I was not alone. Every day
we are made once more in the image of God.
Every day God asks, Cruelty again?
And every day we say, Oh Lord of Heaven,
please, yes, yes. Cruelty again.
źródło: Read A Little Poetry
10.09.2026