Confrontation with Krisis

~ A Theological Poem by Tyler Sprouse ~ 


Lord, let me linger a while

longer; let me exist for a time

in this sun. Let me sit where

I’ve sat a thousand moons or more.


Praying, desperately pleading with You

for a little longer to live,

not scream, to laugh, not bleed

as You have made me do before.


This roaring locomotive relentlessly 

looms, and I can feel the steel rattling

my aching bones. No escape now.

We’re all hurled upon this bemoaning wind,

                                                                                                         Forgotten evermore.




Give me a glimpse into

the cavernous mines of

Your wisdom, let me wade into the Sea

of Your sacrality. Please, make me rest here.


    Intensity grasps my wrists

Kicking, biting, scratching to evade

    the piercing darkness blinding

retinas to renew our sight;

    Lord, let me see,

let me breathe! Lungs pounding

    within the ribs; fire cleansing

the sacrifice, liberating these lips to shout:

"I will not let You go until You bless me!"

    I will finger the sonorous sonata of Truth

while there is breath within my being.


We assume we can overturn the Glass

and begin again; we superciliously imagine

ourselves as the Puppet-Masters of ourselves,

only to be crushed under the dominating

weight of each grain of sand, each minute

piece of granite that mocks and rules

us as we groan and grind down to dust.


Disturbing, you say? Perhaps. Bust Wisdom begs

for a hearing at the city gates. She cries out,

“Awake, you skeletons of decay! O, mummified

flesh, flee from your sarcophagi, unravel

the rotting rags and run to the rivers of life!”


Nobody dares answer.


The Krisis knows no words,

                                                                        makes no reply.


Action will condemn

                                                                             or vindicate: choose well.


    Wake to the dawning of

righteousness unfiltered, rise in this Light

    emanating perpetually. Rush

to the waters of agape abounding.


            Rest, Rejoice, Revolt.


    Live in the Dying;

                                                               Die in your Living.


The All-Consuming Fire will find you

in the hope of hopelessness,

in the Presence of absence, in the faith

of unknowing, in the prayer of perplexity.


            “And the God of shalom will be with you.”