“Reveal”

By Jannah Russell, 1st Place, Poetry

do you hold it all in your hands, Father?

every blade of grass

every flash of sun –

are the seas but tiny droplets?

every blossom that ever bloomed

and all the minutes of moss that crept

across our collective minds?

do you know the scent of perfume from a thousand queens?

do you know the sword of a thousand kings?

do you know the muddled skeletons beneath our feet

under stone and iron and concrete?

were you watching while we built walls

and tore them down

towers; we smashed them

cities; we bombed them

ideas; we fought them

faith –

did you plant the seed of the ancient tree?

did you plant an ancient seed inside of me?

have you examined every breastbone

above every heart –

do our tears wet your eyes?

Father, I cry –

the old king wore a crown of red and white

to unite all those under his sight-

but what of unity when it is a tight belt that strangles?

did you watch a divide

part the seas of mankind

and see the stake we erected?

to which we pounded the declaration that only man

can be our guide?

do we throw our birthrights

into darkness?

do we sow weeds inside the carcass

of order?

does the statue define the sculptor?

does society corrupt us,

or do we mold our own culture?

at what expense do we remove our own hearts

in sacrifice to a new god?

when we offer ourselves up,

when skin is nailed, and sinew peeled,

who do we become?

who are we when all is revealed?

will we all lay down on the altar of popular opinion?

is this man’s dominion

or your approaching kingdom?

who do we betray

when we write wisdom,

when we kneel before what is fearsome?

do you watch us as we march forward

towards an end?

for the feet of mighty ones rock the pages of an old book

their hands take words to bend

to burn

to make bridges out of ash across the cliffs –

look!

have we turned our eyes down?

have we made our necks stiff?

Is it all in your hands if we fall?

Father, could you –

please, find in me,

something of value.

If I could hold onto the sands of suffering for long enough;

if I could endure through the windstorm of what hate dictates;

if I could rise to be more than a victim –

could I produce a pearl of faith

that you would take?

if we fall, do your hands suspend us?

when we fall

will we see what is real?

when you open your fist, what will you reveal?

could I but walk the paths of your palms –

what would I see?

and when you read the words

in the marrow of my bones

judge the thoughts that run in my blood

inspect love that fills up the flesh of me –

who will I become?

who will I choose to be?

Faith; we –

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