PLEASE feel free to comment. Thank you for time. Deborah
April 30-2011
{Following the poem is the explanation to it}
Forgive me, she whispered, blending
Her begging with the solitary light
From a candle shivering by hot sobs.
Book opened, eyes filled with searching,
Heart clenched as if rusted nails did bite
Deep into her need and quivering throbs.
Sin never kills in a single twinkling,
It is like a double print in black and white
Distorted but turning into the color mud.
It mildly adheres in gladsome ways, alluring
The human condition and shrouds in lies,
One, then five, multiplying like spring buds.
Her eyes clung upon The One, The Word, accepting
The woman, ashamed, “Stone her! Die! Die!”
His love spoke a flawless discourse in holy awe.
“Cast the first stone,” All waited as crowd slithering,
Crawled by The Truth, the Way and the Life,
Shying off like serpents convicted, being caught.
“Go and sin no more...” He lifted her face, crying,
Amazed at the Glory that stood at her sight,
And went forth, glorifying her God.
The candle dripped thinner, dimming
While she knelt her secret before The Eyes
And, bleeding no more, she rose, holding The Rod.
“My Midnight’s Light” This is self explanatory in that I am the one reading the scriptures and usually at the midnight hour.
Forgive me, she whispered, blending I begin the scriptures with a plea of forgiveness in order to be taught, to be receptive to the Spirit as I’m being prepared.
Her begging with the solitary light The light is a simple, archaic candle, nothing modern but simplistic.
From a candle shivering by hot sobs. The depth of my repentance as I begin to seek, study the truth, naturally brings tears mixed with breath.
Book opened, eyes filled with searching, “Book”, capitalized since it is The Word of God. I’m searching for answers and His voice.
Heart clenched as if rusted nails did bite All deep needs clench my heart; rusted nails, because it is a need that has yet not been met and has been rusting within. It bites, grabs me to the point of a pulsating throb.
Deep into her need and quivering throbs.It can be any need, any desire any sin or weakness, they all are un-healed and often unheard quivering pleadings.
Sin never kills in a single twinkling, A general truth, statement that sin never is quick in its kill, there usually comes justifications and rationalization beforehand.
It is like a double print in black and white Sometimes photos turn out in a double exposure print,
Distorted but turning into the color mud. With the passing years pictures take on a grey, yellow color, but sin is like the color mud that sticks to us.
It mildly adheres in gladsome ways, alluring “It” is still referring to sin, how it gladly starts to adhere to our self, beckoning, reaching out and deceiving us,
The human condition and shrouds in lies, covering our human / mortal weakness with lies of every kind,
One, then five, multiplying like spring buds. Always multiplying by the passing of seasons. Spring—because it not only is the season of newness and burgeoning, but the myriad of types of buds/and sins.
Her eyes clung upon The One, The Word, accepting “Her” is referring to the woman [me] reading and her full attention on Jesus who is The Way, Word and,
The woman, ashamed, “Stone her! Die! Die!” as she reads her attention turns to the woman, the adulteress, who is ashamed, and the reader [me] can hear what this woman probably was hearing from her accusers, “stone her, die!” [likening the scriptures to myself]
His love spoke a flawless discourse in holy awe. But as I read, [the reader] is also very aware of Christ’s actions, few words, and without any spectacle He speaks a discourse through his love for this woman through his silence, no judgment or joining in with the crowd, causing a holy awe in the woman and crowd as well as the reader. Who could love as He?
“Cast the first stone,” All waited as crowd slithering, His few words became judgment for all,; the reader, again stupified, remembering the many times she, too, had been badgered and judged as well as she has done to others. The crowd are images of snakes [satanic] that slithered off, had no self-responsibility for their sinfulness...
Crawled by The Truth, the Way and the Life, they crawled away with self-condemnation right by the Christ [the Truth, Way, and Life]
Shying off like serpents convicted being caught. Embarrassed like serpents that pull back after hissing but never biting; convicted by their conscience and being caught when their joy was catching the woman in the act, the supposed “good deed” had turned against them, not by Christ but their own realization of guilt.
“Go and sin no more...” He lifted her face, crying, His simply request to go, to continue living but with the condition to not repeat this sin. His gentleness of going to her, touching her face, probably lifting her off the ground as well as acknowledging her tears and pain is [to me] the depth of His understanding and yearning of every child [we being his child] to be touched, lifted, fearless of what others say.
Amazed at the Glory the stood at her sight, The woman, as well as the reader, cannot help but be amazed at the Glory [another name for Jesus]
Going forth, glorifying Her God. The woman quickly obeys, in body, mind and spirit, praising her God. “Her” is capitalized as she and the reader has in her heart risen above a weakness.
The candle dripped thinner, dimming The reader has obviously taken her time in searching out the words on the page with careful perusal since the dimming and thinner candle wax tells time has passed
While she knelt her secret before The Eyes as she knelt her secret need, desire, repentance [any weakness, sin, and gratefulness ] before “the Eyes” reference to the One who watches over us all, even in secret,
And, bleeding no more, she rose, holding The Rod. The reader’s woun[s] has ceased bleeding, has been touched by the Great Healer, as was the woman, and rises, both in spirit and body, clinging to “the Rod, which we interpret as God’s word/ voice and, also for the writer and reader, the shepherds hook which they lean upon.
