Poem: Sing Into The Dark

Poem - Sing Into The Dark - Aaron Blakeley

I am no singer
My voice is rough-hewn
Cut from untrained ears
Practitioner of nill

This voice deep of wood
Found a song to sing
Soothing the young and hard
They from dark circumstance

Tears like embered ash
Fall and sizzle on cheeks
Clenched teeth and red-faced
The oil from pressed homes

With my voice I scold
With my voice I sooth
With my voice I correct
With my voice I love

Strong arms lift pressure
Mill-stones of blood sin
Deep loving safe coos
You are loved sweet child

In my sin I feel
Hero like strength, will
My deep song is loud
My wooden voice proud

What fills my marrow
What animates me

Am I the hero
Am I the savior

It is Christ in me
God’s strength fills marrow
His breath fills lungs
Christ’s words the song

Without my savior
I would be crushed to
Under the millstone
The oil from pressed homes

Sing into the dark

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