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God Always Opens a Door / Rusty Barnes

when one closes and the wall

of unopened entrances sits hard

against the conscience of the holy man

waiting for that opening to envelop

his soul. But that's too ethereal a word:

say rather than the mote in God's eye

that those closed doors are not part

of a resurrection but instead a piling

on of thoughts better left unsaid.

The fly that enters the doorway

only to be caught by the spider;

the human who opens the door;

only to be caught on the cross,

made manifest in deadly wounds.

I am the way and the truth

and the light of the Lord. Your

panic is my pleasure. It's always

there: the submission, the torture,

the death oh God the resurrection

of life, the healing of wounds, great

gulping sky of salvation accessible

only through me: caught on iron

spikes which eliminate the Roman

soldier, only Barabbas left this world

humble, knowing what he'd be given at

the whistle and knock of the world's end.


RUSTY BARNES lives and writes in Revere MA, His work appears widely. In March 2024, Redneck Press will publish his fourth story collection HALF CRIME. His most recent poetry chapbook is DEAR SO & SO. You can find him on SM @rustybarnes23.

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