Merit Award 2007 Utmost Christian Poetry Contest $50
About this Christian Poet:
I was born and raised in Korea, but my home is now in Suwanee, Georgia. I am a sophomore at Wellesley College, MA, where I met my sisters who led me to Him, and a member of Berkland Baptist Church. “Return” is my first attempt at writing a Christian poem and is inspired by His incomprehensible longing for me, His desire for my return to Him. I hoped to tell Him that He has sole and complete ownership of my life and that in just so simply belonging to Him, I have my perfect freedom.
In the bright of day. I lost her, in the bright of day,
when your light came to slay my first love,
my last being.
When you took her away unscathed and she became yours—
in your blood.
Oh stealth, you slipped her in, led her past
the point of no return, to
a time of no mankind history,
But did you know, did you know,
guarding agape, and wide-eyed too, from the cradle that crashed,
for the promise fulfilled,
for the gentle fatality that comes—no, came, already came,
oh that was me, a sacred thing of vast ambition,
and watchful obscurity, oh that was me.
Did you see how her shadow hid from your light?
Hid clumsily behind my pupils that scream in a foreign tongue
and under my feet that curse the soil without my consent.
Foolish girl, what brashness—
did she not know that I would collect her glorious death from those feet for my life?—
and so betray her, with a love that failed, a love that...
There never was a night the world stopped
to hear the panting of her soul in search of spirit
or the collapse of her groping hand, her weary companion,
to speak of her transgression, let her know, for pity’s sake,
that she walked—no, sauntered,
on the trail of the damned.
Funny, what knowledge did she bite there, what shame befall her?
But neither—fine, I know now—
was there a day she was without you.
How kindly I remember her, with a heart that stopped a lifetime ago.
Would you undo your love for me,
drink all your spilt light at the sunken end of that trail
and bring her back,
at my peril?
I ask, but only because I know.
You will say again,
how pathetic, your forged hope,
yet daringly wishful, you—
as if there was something to be reclaimed,
as if she was
ever her own.
Copyright ©2007 by Jenny Lee