knock

knock

Audacity runs thick here, and what’s more,
We’re familiar with waking Him up for
This, that, and the other. So be
Bold in asking, brothers; go free
Bravely, sisters, approach the door.

Go lack common courtesy at your core,
When your state of soul is weary and sore.
When only one thing will heal me,
I am shameless.

Propriety isn’t piety, nor
Does it matter to the child or the poor.
Faith is annoying (it makes me hungry),
Like our families, who insist that we
Owe them something. Knock. By such blood and war
You are shameless.

“Then Jesus said to them, “Suppose you have a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have no food to offer him.’ And suppose the one inside answers, ‘Don’t bother me. The door is already locked, and my children and I are in bed. I can’t get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.” Luke 11:5‭-‬8 NIV

(Liturgical poetry during ordinary time after Pentecost is inspired by the parables of Luke.)

Words for the Church: Ordinary Time
difficult, divine
better
torrents of my making
mine to forgive
now does the earth
when blood

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