Poetry: “Sonnet”

God made us to enjoy beauty and to imitate his wondrous creativity as an expression of worship (cf. Exodus 31:1-11). Unfortunately, the church today too often neglects the arts as a serious Christian pursuit. To address this deficiency, I will post some poetry occasionally as a reminder and challenge to all of us (myself included) to embrace the artistic as a means of embracing the Artist. 

This is a poem I wrote in 2001 as a prayer of confession. It is my own personal Psalm 51, so to speak. The almost violent imagery is a tribute to John Donne’s masterful work “Batter My Heart.” I hope it will be an encouragement to others—perhaps even as a model prayer—in the same way that Donne’s poem has always been an encouragement to me.

“Sonnet”

Paroxysmal pleasure, meet sudden pain,

As white blood spills red blood of th’ unbent reed;

Transient, fleeting, the former can’t feed

Lust’s unassuageable maw.  Now are twain

Body, spirit, insatiate each: the one

For surfeit, the better for want of bread.

Raw meat arousèd hot, leftover feed

Cannot fill what can bread of God alone.

O Jesus! penetrate my maidenheart,

In doing so, unspoiling spoiled flesh.

Return to my lover me—virgin, fresh—

That I may lie from him no more apart.

Enter me that I may be satisfied,

Chastity to live now that death has died.