Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Trying to Let Myself Off the Cross

What if I had gone to the New Year’s dance
instead of staying home practicing and writing?
Would I be giving myself a better chance
of salvation? I might get a glance
from an old friend with whom I’m always jousting:
we have a dance
—call it a “dynamic”—
in which my stress-absorption rating
may be sorely tested, giving me little chance,
when the eyes-around commences,
of keeping my composure OR my stuffing.
If I had gone to the New Year’s dance,
it would be like taking Asian self-defense
to fend off the harsh scratching and fierce biting.
Of serenity there’d be little chance—
that’s my apprehension
anyhow, so I’ll just skip the fretting—
I won’t visit ire upon myself for not going to the New Year’s dance.
But have I refused to give Jesus a chance?