The Inner Sherpa

Poem

A KEY, NOT A CROSS



A Key, Not a Cross

Lord, here is a pendant I had designed for You.

Its charm is an ‘honest-to-God’ replica of the encrypted key

That instantly disarms the state-of-the-art security system

I acquired to ward off any unlawful attempt

To force open the armored door to my heart.

It will give You unlimited access to my fiercely-defended privacy.

Feel free to drop in unannounced!

Ignore the 'No-Trespassing' sign I routinely post on my front door

Whenever I feel the urge to retreat in my 'she-den.'

I candidly admit I have a Crush on You.

I long for the warmth of Your healing embrace.

I wish to behold Your luminous face.

The platitudes that foolishly cross the threshold of our lips

Are echoless, unless they surge from the depth of our heart.

Many perfunctory tokens of gratitude fall flat on their gold-plated faces,

Unable to capture Your attention, be it just for a fleeting moment.

Only those who are fully ‘present-hearted’ get to kneel in the Basilica of Your Sacred Heart

After stripping from their persona, the repulsive webs of rancid grudges,

And stinking-to-high-Heaven resentments.

Down on their knees, they scrub the marble floors,

Prepping them to receive the scarlet red carpet that will festively be rolled out

When the hour finally comes for Your long-awaited visitation.

.

We volunteer to serve as Your loyal Lighthouses,

Whose saving beams pierce all darkness!

Lift the foggy veil of our amnesia and take us back to our divine roots!

I took to the goldsmith the golden cross I wore around my neck

Asking him to melt it and repurpose it as your forever operational guest-key to my heart.

I’d be honored if you’d wear it around your neck.

Anyas Spencer, Medford, Oregon, November 25, 2019



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