Issue Four

Summer 2012


Flash Point

Matthew 26:53

The thunder of their wings fills the sky.
The guards look up, astonished; they are the first
dropped senseless, impaled by unbridled light.

The crosspiece catches fire and embers fly
across the wind. The nails melt. Spears burst,
stabbing brutal hands. Stones ignite.

I rise to glory in flames that flare and die
away, and leave man to undying night.

The angels sing. Their flawless voices ring
hollow. I walk uncounted crystal ways—
discord trembles in the air: a thorn

that snags the seamless weave. There's nothing wrong,
He says, Why do you ask? Each step I take
burns gold to ash. I cannot meet His eyes.


L. M. Price