Waking The Dead
"I'm sorry...did I wake you?"
I just need to talk.
For months
After I learned of your death...
I couldn't speak your name...
Or express my grief...
Couldn't write...
think...
Cry or Feel.
My life was only a poem...
a painting...
a movie...
a cinematic blunder.
But my unexpressed grief
had a voice all it's own,
It whispered to me in my dreams
Telling me
That all was not lost...
I still had my memories...
My confessions...
My Truth.
My Father once told me,
that my personal brand of truth
could silence the angels
could fumble mere mortals
could undo salvation
with the words I'd just said...
My Father, he told me...
That Jesus would scold me...
That devils would hold me
and that I WOULD wake the dead.
And I know now that Angels were humbled by me...
I know that mere mortals were crumbled by me...
I know I have damned those who did not deserve it...
But what of my truth
and my thoughts to preserve it?
I still kiss the devils
though Christ, he abstains...
He longs for me though,
but the question remains...
Were the words father spoke
simply crazy or true?
Only one test to go...
Tell me now...
Whisper low...
Make it last...
Answer slow:
Was he wrong or did I wake you?
Written By Jason Wright
MARCH 28, 2004
For Shawn