Kurt Philip Behm

The Whispering Muse (+1)

Torn from the moment,

each page sorely ragged

whose ink has long faded

but memory bound

 

The story is telling,

its magic eternal

inside it awaits us

—a treasure unfound

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

 

 

The Prize

 

The politics of religion,

its statues on fire

All martyred saints burning

in canonized pyre

 

As cardinals of vengeance

seek new hearts to be stoned

Inquisitors ramble,

the Creator on loan

 

The religion of politics,

 papal decrees

Guilt laden promises,

 salvationists fee

 

Crusaders on horseback,

twelve Apostles alone

Which is more dangerous,

the Word or the throne

 

(Chorus)

 

“Raise the curtain—praise the Lord,

  darkness censures fast

Faith though blind, still hope to find,

beyond iconoclasts

 

“With eyes wide open, see the light,

all else to render lies

His love unending, given free,

eternal life the prize”

 

 (The New Room: April, 2022)