On Fire

Push back the furniture
Clear a space in the sanctuary
Lay me out straight
a faggot for Christ

Walk around me seven times
Offer your silent prayers
Beat your breast
if necessary

Then wait
It will happen
or it won’t
Pillar or tongue

or live coal from the altar
Or nothing
The Spirit proceeds unpredictably
Of course

there’s always self-immolation
but that’s a momentary light
Make me a boundless blaze
or back away

I’m dry wood
will spark at your touch—a pyre
fit for a thousand sacrifices
maybe more

Published by asaur