Power Alone

by Carol Edwards

Could not have made them love You; inspire awe and reverence, 
a nervousness of what You might do,
but love? Peter, whose mother You healed, was not a soft man.
Had You been a tyrant, would he have adored You to death?
Would he have called Your miracles a great mercy, a hope?

The strong sons of Zebedee humbled themselves to serve,
chiding those shallow in faith who assumed the rich were favored 
of God for their many robes and rings.
A tyrant would favor the rich, cast away the vile, poor, and destitute.
“It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.
I come that they may have life.”

The dry well of my soul runs deep, O God;
fill it from the streams of Your glory and grace
that when I drink of it
the stone seeking to devour my heart
is scoured away.

Carol Edwards is a northern California native transplanted to southern Arizona. She lives and works in relative seclusion with her books, plants, and pets (+ husband). She grew up reading fantasy and classic literature, climbing trees, and acquiring frequent grass stains. She enjoys a coffee addiction and aspires to be a succulent mad scientist. Her work has appeared in Space & TimeOpenDoor Poetry MagazineOrigami Poems ProjectUproar Literary BlogHeart of Flesh Literary JournalCajun Mutt PressGyroscope Review, and The Ocean Waves published by Red Penguin Books. She uploads her poetry to www.practicallypoetical.wordpress.com

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