Crucible
the cup is passed
to the least suspecting
innocent looking
filled with intoxicating elixir
we drink deeply and think we are sated
but we are not
life as large as this… looms
pulls us in
then drops the hammer
and draws blood
then it begins
we live in-between the two gardens
having tasted the fruit
succumb to its sweetness
and are soon bitten by the arrogance
that becomes Life’s lesson
the bitter draught we are forced to drink
we each are wedged
between blasphemy and betrayal
laying snug within the cleaved
and narrow passage of the heart
blindly waiting for the cock to crow
unwilling victims
waiting for the cup we know
will be passed in our direction
a final realization it is the crucible
in which we are to be forged and molded
Are we ready?
June, 2009 by c.m. brooks