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The Book of Soul Contending
by Jody Prattis by an average writer,
not ill-fated enough to be
titled an author;
one who mocks his audience
of self
disillusioned with the thought
of somehow reaching the end.
A book of soul contending
riddles the mind with answers
so obscure they almost make sense.
We who would almost
believe in faith,
usually reserved for untruths,
would never admit
that it could be so believable
and, in turn, would turn,
if given the chance,
on the truth -
if only not to confront it.
A book of soul contending
is red on the inside,
a rose;
petals but pages plucked,
not flipped;
not turned but pulled
inside out,
revealing true colors.
Then we would say -
"It is read." 08/29/2012 Posted on 08/29/2012
Copyright © 2024 Jody Pratt
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/30/12 at 04:56 PM I especially like that last stanza. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/25/12 at 12:18 AM I like this very much. Has a kind of Edgar Allen Poe spiritual darkness...and light to it, especially with the rose in the third stanza. |
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