Decades ago I wrote a number of other short poems on similar themes. Here are links to three: "Who Can Interpret a Broken Branch" written March 1980 and posted here on 6 March 2013; "A Siren Calling in the Night" written December 1980 and posted here on 12 December 2012, and "The All" written January 1981 and posted here on 31 December 2011.
---------------
On
such and such a night I died,
It
was not sickness, it was pride,
Like
Satan plunging to the sea
I
leapt Your rampart and chose me.
And
now in selfish coal-dust dark
I
whimper like a wing-broke lark,
I
scorned what You were like to do
And
choosing me, made You choose You.
====================
©
September 2015
