Shall Not the Judge of All the Earth Do Right? (Gen. 18:25) -5/13/05

Oh I, the Judas, I can never keep,
I always sell the things I love the most
And add this purse of silver to the heap
That keeps me warm at night, ‘longside your ghost.

Though silver never shone more than her eyes
(For those are priceless, while the other’s priced)
Remorse awash’d, no part of me denies
That I betrayed the image of my Christ.

Yet she returns a holy kiss for vile,
And salt libations pours out on her bed
With love that’s free from terror and from guile,
A heart that beats with blood that is so red.

I cannot understand this gift so pure;
Lord, I deserve Gehenna, never her!