It will all burn

It will all burn

Bethany Besteman

“It will all burn,”
She said with a knowing nod
Cornering me in the narthex.
And blinking through lenses
Large on her lined elfin face
She pronounced judgment
On my cobwebs and clutter:

“The dust on your ceiling fans
And crusted on vents, Swirled
into bunnies on your stairs,

the crumbs clustered under
his high chair, detritus stamp,
stomped into rugs by his feet,

Dishes stacked; Clothing
crumpled; Toys tossed: All
destined for fire.

Not him, not you; what’s real
that’s the gold, the rest: slag.”

And with a smile beatific, she
raised clenched fists, down-
-turned, opened palms as if
in release: brusque benediction.

This prophet in a windbreaker
ambled away while I grasped
weakly at the ashy breeze.

---

Bethany Besteman
Poet & Worship Coordinator

Bethany has been published in Reformed Worship

Photography by Daniel Mingook Kim