Dry Lips

Those who advocate truth
may not be free
to speak
but bloated
steeped in honey-dipped verbosity
and bound
by their own rightness
having lost not self
(as was hoped)
but the keys
while making love
hate all
opposition
to what the fingers of the little will
must hold onto
too tightly
too willfully
too accurately too
that even the days drop
denser shadows
darker even
than black
oil slicks
slipping
into moonless nights
glossy as true light
yet reflecting nothing
but their own spry spittle
no longer warm and tender
like the first morning
speaking
grace
growing life
out of dust
and love
out of wrath
to confuse the night
and to condemn
all
condemnation
but not these
bent reeds
and smold’ring wicks
quenched and crushed
by words
not sent by Him
flameless flames speaking
so shamelessly sharp
that their hearers’ ears are left to lie
severed and bleeding
on the side of life
growing deaf and blind
and dry
lips
move
without any
tenderness to hush
and to comprehend whatsoever
is honorable and true
righteous and pure
praiseworthy
precious
deeds
of glory
and much
praise

pray

that I would
hush
and meditate
on these

please!

Petra O. Hefner

“Truth lies in character. Christ did not simply speak the truth; he was truth; truth, through and through…” – Frederick W. Robertson

“I would rather play with forked lightning… than speak a reckless word against any servant of Christ, or idly repeat the slanderous darts which thousands of Christian are hurling on others.” – A.B. Simpson

 

Scripture

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