You are patient.
But I am endless.
Drawn line and twisted
red gold to a
wick of your ecstasy.

You are not fair.
You are not there, and yet Your endlessness is fire
and pain as a mind in color.

I am out-thought,
inwhelmed, unverbed, and understood.
(Jabbok lies unsilent)
defense undone,
resistance is become the violence of Your glory,
Your conquest my obedient rebellion,
Your dear, sweet conquering—won,
(how Jabbok roars)
Your truest, truly,
(now is red)
unruly Yours.

portrait on brick

Conrad Martin loves words for their ability to create deeper awareness and experience of life through connection between minds and hearts.

Photography by Kenneth Godoy

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