This is no surgery
no sharp sterilized blade
to do the cutting
no dream inducing anesthetic
to dull the pain
no quiet recovery room
to softly awaken in

this is the ferocious feast
of jagged-toothed brokenness
a brazen ever-present beast
ravaging by the roadside
to the tear-streaked cold cries
"LET IT END!"
dumb raging sin seeks
the infected guts of it all
picking over entrails to read the future
declaring “woe upon woe upon woe”
till we are left – once one,
now tragic torn in two
corpses hung at crossroads
to confound eternal hope

still – as twilight falls then night
so sunrise comes at the dawn
dispelling winter with warm breath
while the resurrected God brings healing
in tears of father forgiveness
and each shall rise by sinewed spirit
one called west, one called east
to part as children of hope-filled him
who separates as far as the distance
between the two