Stain upon my soul

I wrote this in 2012 on this day. I have been paying attention to my ‘On this day….’ and rediscovering lost words. Picture is also mine.

Begone, beyond, feelings tossed to the moors

frightful, disturbing, unwanted, pain

Rapture, only found with denial, with revulsion

go not into the embrace, but fight for hell.

You say you will forgive me, you will wipe away my tears

you say that your eyes alone, can divine the stain upon my soul.

You say that through you and you alone, can I find salvation.

yet you turn your head, your ears, your eyes

When I do not behave;

how your ambassadors on earth feel I should.

Call me not a coward, nor defiant

you and you alone gave me free will

My choice, my decision, my desire

hurt not others, all shall be good.

Find the stain upon my soul,

enough to curse me.

To send me to hell.

Yet you gave me the ability to choose,

and still you punish.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

August 5/12

 

 

 

Whore no more

Picture courtesy of symphonyforlove.blogspot.com

I saw her standing on the corner

(a child dressed as a whore)

Baby fat still molded to her body

a painted face dripping in gore.

Sitting in my home that night

surrounded with all my wealth

Love and warmth, a sense of security

I saw her standing alone.

(A child dressed as a whore)

Laying in bed that night

my mind did mutter and churn

How long could I plead ignorance

how long could I ignore?

(a child dressed as a whore)

What options lay at my door?

to call the police? Find her mother?

One way leads to a system that fosters

another may lead to horror.

(a child dressed as a whore)

Finally I knew I could take no more

and a plan did begin to brew.

Victim to victim, her silent cries

her empty face calling to my soul.

(a child dressed as a whore)

Late the next night while the family did sleep

I sidled from the house.

The car was running

exhaust hanging in the crisp air.

I found that little girl last night

and took her in my arms.

Promised her peace and redemption

saw the gleam of tears, hope revived.

(a child dressed as a whore no more)

Never was there an outcry

no news, no sad mother with tears

I did the right thing

rescuing that child from the stones.

(a child dressed as a whore no more)

This morning the sun rose

the mist burned into the ground.

And somewhere in this vast world

a child has been saved from such horrors.

(a child dressed as a whore no more)

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Feb. 6/14