After Kierkegaard

And there are many ways to come undone

– some more exquisite than others. Ask Eve,

she will tell you apple-lust unwrapped her

left her cold and with a word for shiver.

Lot’s wife is witness that a backward glance

is enough – nostalgia pillared her. But,

I imagine the somewhat greater deeds:

the Red Sea unstitched like a turquoise braid;

the lion’s den, its many hungry mouths;

Isaac’s bewildered screams: why, daddy, why?

And what terrible choice to peel back doubt

like a bandage, without question or lack

to say Here am I, to renounce relief:

step in, seize the knife, and to know belief.