"I'm Not Frightened Any More..."

[psalm_onethirtyone]

Contretemps

all my gifts are bitter now.
you may taste them--
my god, I could not deny you that--
but they are as bitter as myrrh
and your tongue will ache.
the innermost part of myself
is sour
like mulberries in spring;
the wine you make from me will taste of myrrh.
I have tried to be the sweetest part of winter but
my blood is cold,
my hands are unsteady
and the tremor in my heart is making me sicken--
like a dog with a worm in its heart.
my god, I am breaking like the bottle
and there is bitter wine on our dirt floor.
my god, my gifts are poor now
but the wood in my door has swollen and I cannot move it.
I thought it was fall and went to gather the
red-gold bittersweet vines;
and instead the mulberries are ripening.
there is nothing I would deny you,
but my heart tastes of myrrh,
and I pray you leave it.

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