DAVID AND BATHSHEBA
I remember you most of all,
not because of your beauty
or the sweetness of your smile,
not because of the binding of our spirits,
or the oaths and promises we took
All of these plunged us within the vortex of a passion
that started with a single look.
It was none of these things
that made you a burning flame,
that I have always tended in my heart,
wanting you to remain.
when I forget the man I have to be
or the king that has to guard
this anointment so zealously,
when I can forget the father
my children hope to find,
when I can set free the things that holds
my body soul and mind,
I recall the first moment
when I beheld you from afar,
bathing beneath a full moon and the Venus star.
I long for that first meeting
when I held your hands in mine,
when you spilled a cup of red wine,
and stooping, you tried to gather it with the edge of your veil,
as it slipped from your brow
your eyes opening a door to my heart
my reason to assail.
Why didn’t I know then as the moonlight
caressed your chestnut hair
that you and I would transgress,
hurt others and not even care.
Why didn’t we see the misery and longing
of those who watched us from afar?
And when you were not near
I felt your presence following,
searching through doors left ajar.
Still I remained brooding ,
waiting each day for your words
that would sanction my deepest intent
inspired by love songs I whispered in silence
sure of not being heard.
You gave no sign of the longing
that throbbed steadily through silent days and nights,
and my hopes became as tremulous as flickering candlelight.
If I were to believe that I was a man
after God’s own heart
who then was he who loved Bathsheba,
held her and gave to her a life seed to start?
If I were to believe that God walked with me
through every waking moment of the day
what perverse passion urged me to follow,
begging you to stay?
If I were to believe that God would give me an answer
to this dilemma we both now know
is there a chance for the man after God’s own heart,
that for him forgiveness might grow?
There is no point in reasoning an alliance
greater than our own lives,
a passion that harnessed a fate
filled with regrets that came too late.
There is no point in reasoning the longing I have for you
when in my heart I know the sorrow I have caused for you.
There is no point in hoping that the child will be born safe and strong…
he will not live because I have done this great wrong
And so I fall before Him
a king at the feet of a King
as I plead for mercy and forgiveness
From The Eternal Flame by Rhona Renz. Go to April 25th 2015 for the poem Absalom or type in Absalom in ‘search’ at the top of this page. Namasté