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Awakening

Krista Hoffman

The Sermon that opened my eyes inspired this poem.

Red face, pounding fist

Leaning into the congregation

Thundering and ominous his voice

Threatening his words

Warnings, threats, and judgments

Rain down from on high

Trying to save our souls from Hell

Didn’t he know there were little ones listening? Like me?

Tender hearts that might despair of life altogether


I did. I despaired.

Squeezing fists materialize in my stomach

Like a ship’s knot braces for the oncoming storm.


My whole body starting to burn

as a precursor to what would undoubtedly be my end in Hellfire.


How many ways can one be tortured and

put to death?

What if I think, “I hate God” as I leave this life?


Fear paralyzing my body

I realize I’ve been holding my breath

for what feels like hours


Silence, not like a quietness

but like a huge dead space

filling up the room


Everyone’s uncomfortable

Do all the adults really believe this?

He finally moves on

Something about how God loves us

and it’s the least we can do

being the filthy sinners we are.


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