Confounding the Devil

You do not want to get up.
Ever.
That is the truth.
It is too much work,
too dark,
too frightening and overwhelming.
Far too easy to lay in your ruins
and slowly become a ruin yourself,
to slowly disappear in time,
barely noticed as the vines close over you,
covering you with their beautiful death.

You do not want to get up.
Ever.
That is the truth,
but it is too much work,
too dark
to remain here, to surrender
while the war swirls outside without you.
Better to get into the fray,
to die and love and live gloriously
than to disappear quietly in the dust,
to mock the enemy in your mind,
to confound him with your resistance,
with your persistence as you crawl slowly from your bed
singing hymns,
joining with the birds’ songs
in welcoming the day.

About this poem

Some days are harder than others. But if I just get started….. That is why I begin my day with prayer, scripture and poetry. It confounds the devil.

Tom