Weekly Scribblings #42, and we’re challenged to use one or all of the given lines, or write a poem inspired by all. "fingers framed by light
clutching an old rosary
carved from human bone"
Submitted to Poets & Storytellers United
October 21, 2020
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BONES OF CONTENTION
Hail Mary, full of grace,
whose bones are these
on which we count our
prayers.
Perhaps a saint
who wished to hear
the prayers over and over
again, the sacred ritual
comforting us in our sorrows
and the saint in infinity.
Perhaps a warrior felled in
some religious battle, now
wandering in perdition searching
for his fingers.
Ahhh. Giving up yer digits for The Wrong Deity, eh? Nothin'll getcha into Hell any quicker. Nice work, Beverly.
ReplyDeleteOn one side, offerings from a soul that wished to be of service even after death; on the other side, the unwillingly given sacrifice of a soul in purgatory. That should give the one praying more than a little pause, I think—having bones from the first seems like an honor, but having bones from the other... who knows.
ReplyDeleteI really like that your poem opens the door into an even bigger story.
Just how much of us can we take with us? The prompt certainly has made us wonder about a lot.
ReplyDeleteI love the title, Bev, and the way question of the opening stanza takes us on a journey.
ReplyDeleteNicely done – leading so gently to the double-take and sudden, shiocked laughter aroused by your last line.
ReplyDeleteThat's *shocked
ReplyDeleteI could not help from visualizing brave heroic men in combat clutching rosaries as they died from their wounds .... wars from time immemorial.
ReplyDeleteI echo Helen above. I also love the subtle humor of "searching for his fingers" :)
ReplyDeleteI can see clearly the warrior looking for his fingers, now carved into rosary beads. Startling image, but I like it!
ReplyDeleteWow, I like where you took this prompt!
ReplyDeleteI love this message to spare a prayer for both saint and soldier, who sacrifice and protect in their own ways.
ReplyDelete