His ears have been ringing for thousands of days,
as from a hard slap, but it stays and it stays.
A similar sound to a siren that plays
without losing its pitch pipe perfection.

A strangling snake seems to coil, and to tighten.
Never to loosen, never to lighten.
Its singular purpose to cow and to frighten,
‘Til its victim has no clear direction.

His nose, it is running.  His stomach, it churns.
There is no surcease from the acid that burns.
The doctors have done all their tests, and he learns
that there is “no disease, or infection”.

“My bones out of joint”, as was said in the Psalm
“My heart melting like wax”, with no spiritual balm
“I am poured out like water”, there’s nothing to calm,
and no miracle cure or injection.

All too common, our souls tell this harrowing story.
We cry out to someone (the Power and the Glory?)
We regret, we repent, and we say we are sorry.
We’ll accept any kind of correction.

Will forgiveness be ours, now our life is in doubt?
Can our guilt and our sin and our debt be wiped out?
If we care, then we’ll know what this story’s about-
We are called His Divine Imperfection.