What would you have me do?
When brokenness is at the root
And worms through branch and breast and fruit,
And manifests, legion-like,
Rearing ugly heads;
In beautiful human beds…
What would you have me do,
I know but do not want to know,
See but seek darkness,
Hear but hold silence.
I am neither Love nor Grace.
I am unholy host.
I am the one I hate.
Indict me now by this plea:
As I forgive, forgive me.
We were created whole,
To be loved and to love,
And now we are taught, too, to adore
These worm-eaten apples of your eye,
Despite what writhes from sockets of flesh.
Should we not hate the infested, but that which infects?
How difficult is the difference,
For worms enrich the earth.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to love, and a time to hate…”
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 8
(Liturgical poetry during Lent is inspired by the Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. Photo by Linnea Wheeler.)