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by Jesse Baker
… but no one can tame the tongue. (James 3:8) Next time I teach, I’m tempted just to stand In silence—mute, as any mouthing might Make known how much my heart is rooted in Iniquity or that my untamed tongue Will take control and twist my talk to till Up trouble, seeding soulish soils with speech That cannot feed but only churn up bile And gall in everyone my voice consumes. But how I long to speak without such fear, That words would well up from a single source And like a fountain freely flow to quench Parched throats; and that my voice would ring like verse And dove-like light upon the hearts of those Who long to hear your Word speak life.
Jesse is a pastor living in central North Carolina who often tries to entice his parishioners to join in his poetic enthusiasm. He has previously written for An Unexpected Journal, The Clayjar Review, Rabbit Room Poetry, and Radix Magazine.
This is amazing, as are all of Jesse's sonnets. I can't wait to own a book of sonnets that are pastoral, devotional, and simply beautiful.
So many good lines in this one: "twist my talk to till / Up trouble," "seeding soulish soils," "mute, as any mouthing might / Make known..." I appreciate the invitation into this moment.