None know if her dead
soul has persisted on
to limbo, hell, or between,
so we pray her name.
We lift her corpse to stand
with arms raised to God
to amplify our prayers.
They matter. The Lord and Satan
tally them just before
dawn. That’s why so many
resign in bed. That’s why
we pray so often their name.
They matter. By accounting
of prayer, a soul may rise
nearer the Lord
(a million prayers away)
should he choose to hear,
or else, the bankrupt soul
does descend. In the end,
if the corpse is true,
if the bones align
perfectly toward
the metaphysical
divide, if our prayers
pay the way, she will
rise. But our prayers
transact
one way. The Lord returns
no receipts. We’re between
two fates, one of doubt
and one of lifelong debt.
For twenty-two years, Tom Holmes was the founding editor and curator of Redactions: Poetry & Poetics. The final issue was released in July 2024. 😦 He is an Ace writer, who teaches at Nashville State Community College (Clarksville). Blog, The Line Break: thelinebreak.wordpress.com/. Twitter: @TheLineBreak
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