LEVIATHAN by Gabrielle Rabon

When the sun rose on the fifth day, You looked down

On Your creation and saw that it was good.

I wonder, did You love me then: the piercing serpent,

The crooked serpent, shaped just as

You hand-made me?

What cruelty made You wish me dead

So strongly You would create me Yourself

To watch it come to pass? Who but

God could feel hatred so powerful

They would birth a beast for the pleasure

Of seeing it destroyed?

I am only the dragon in the sea, with

Useless fire breath which

Underwater turns to stone.

You designed me as Your Son:

My sole purpose, to be consumed.

Break my body as

Communion and take my flesh into

Your mouth. Set my bloated corpse

As a seal, let this unholy sacrament be

A sign of Your love for all creation.

Cut me into pieces and

Feed me to the forest.

I prefer to sate the world rather than rot down

In the deep.

By your design, no man can bind me up

Nor rope me down, nor

Will they draw out my tongue with their cords. Only

You tame me, You calm me, You teach me to

Speak softly.

Like Jesus in Gethsemane, I await

Your sword in the darkness. And yet

You do not answer my cries,

my questions:

Am I, too, a martyr,

A savior to mankind?

Is it wrong to bite the hand that feeds you

If it means to strike you down?