The Gall, The Chains
…nothing fancy, just a recent entry from my journal as I grapple…
The Gall, The Chains
I am Simon.
The gall.
The chains.
The silver.
And all.
I am Simon.
My questions reflect something deeper in my heart;
Maybe I’ll play another trick for you
You’ll think I’m the Great Power
of the Great Knower
who knows I’m not
I’m not
Like Simon, the question
of my fate
of my state
is to be determined
I am not even as honest as Simon
He spoke up and asked.
I am his gall and his chains and his silver
and I will perish
Might Christ swallow my gall,
unwind my chains,
pay the price I cannot pay;
Might he awake before me that I awake,
Perish that I will not wholly fade to dust;
Fall first that I not fall in pieces;
And might I pray a salve for my sins,
a balm for my questions,
a cure for my heart
from him?
I am Simon.
What has and what will become of me?
