Fiction Friday: Micropoetry from the Book

My ancestors had brought me to where I was,
even as my descendants would bring me the rest of the way,
for through temple work & perpetuating the gospel
through my future children,
I would save them all.

God spoke to His people
through dreams & visions,
His Word,
& every way indirectly,
through countless translations.

Something spoke to David through his paintings,
for every stroke did not conceal,
but revealed.

God was the Judge & Jury,
Jesus, the Defender,
the Holy Spirit, the Witness,
my own soul, the Prosecution.

Spirits lived amongst us—
holy & unholy,
familial & unfamiliar,
confusing & clarifying.
How was I to discern their agenda
when they all sounded the same?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s