light, so that the leaving
should be easier. What I bequeath
according to your will
and this new testament: I leave a church
built on a broken rock. I leave
nothing written down. I heard my words
freely on the winds of
debts or property, no house
for shrine, no artefact for relic. I leave just
remnants of a meal. My cloak
is cast aside and gambled for. I leave
to raid, no corpse to disinter,
no fingerprints, no blood, no DNA.
have gained the world, yet now
nothing stands between us but this one
legacy. Because it is written; because
it is the only pledge by which all souls
the devil’s pawnshop are redeemed;
and because until I give it up to you
be returned to anyone,
Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.
Seventh and last poem in the sequence Words from the cross.
© Godfrey Rust, firstname.lastname@example.org. See here for details of permissions for use.