When all the world seems to gleam
with Satan’s anthropophagous teeth,
help me to remember why
my spirit cleaves to you.
Are you not the muzzle muting
Daniel’s leonine doom?
Are you not the presence
in those unconsuming flames?
That brazen crucifixion
ridding issue of their sin,
expelling fork-tongued devilry
from any upturned gaze,
you are the lintel’s crimson brush strokes
dripping preternatural protection,
while all of Egypt gasps and grasps
at suddenly slumping firstborns.
The pestilence walking in darkness may slaver
and pant to plant me in its gastric grave,
but you are the one who called me
from darkness; I have been and forever will be saved.