a voice crying out in the postmodern wilderness

Ephphatha ("Be Opened")

I have something to ask.
I want to be a superhuman—
that is, more than I am now.
Start by opening me.
When the zipper of me is down,
I’m scared that gallons of spiders
will climb over floors of adders.

But I know you’ll kill them.
You’re already doing it.

Make me a bowl.
Make me a container to hold
goodness and mercy.
Fill me with the tears of widows,
then evaporate all I hold with your light.
Drop me and shatter me and
glue me back together with grace.
Send me down a river and toss me
through moist clouds.

My palms are heavenward.