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 Poems by T.J. Swisher

View: Trove of Time
 

loathsome thoughts
     a reformatory in the mind,
   bound like the legion man in Mark,
 chafing the defective soul,
             salient signpost
     built of illuminated neon,
 
 a trove to the representation
   in cheval glass,
      a jejune life from
first breath to recent steps,
 
    the submerged pining to feel treasured,
 to be embodied with friendship and family,
      had found youths tracks
                      toward church taken in err,
an unknown spiritual slaughter,
    where isolation behind
          a fieldstone wall
 beneath obese thunderclouds
      hid the spirit of rejection,
 
time held drumfire to the revelation
           drawn from words on a morning sought
     to be lounged in sweats,
where clinched jaw
       and backhand swipes at the eyes
  could not withhold the despondency
being vanquished by His presence,
   moments humbled with grace
          for the soul to come alive again,
in His arms
    the loathsome thoughts
            evaporate to those of eucharistia.
 
~T.J. Swisher









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