For My John of the Cross
by Olivia Diamond

Sometimes he seems to be Christ crucified
On the cross; other times he carries it
On his back through alley ways of regret.
On his shirt childhood pain is simplified
To read: "It’s never too late to have
A happy childhood." No, it is never late
For time has no distinctions to dictate.
The moment is too momentous to have
Marleys in chains pursuing us as clocks
Tick onward to tombs opening for those
Who failed to squeeze attar of the rose,
Who were deaf to words of water on rocks:
This the wine God gave to gladden the heart
When wet on lips with life you have a part.

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