I.
God’s children should not swear.
Saltwater and fresh water do not mix.
Such vulgarities had stopped
the moment I was reborn.
I’ve won that battle, thought I,
tongue renewed.
Only later to return
like an old haunt,
symptom of a soul turned blue.
II.
But today? Today, I swore accidentally,
out of happiness.
Hell, which is not much believed in
but often named,
spilled from my lips in a moment of joy,
like a slip a child makes
when it says a word it doesn’t even know,
or when it says a wrong word,
learning how to speak.
III.
And I knew God knew
my heart.
If Jesus can turn water into wine
my word, my accident, my slip
does not mean I am going
to the place I said,
does not mean I don’t believe
the place I said exists,
doesn’t mean I like that this is true--
though I read if good does not hate evil
then it is not truly good,
so I know it must exist,
because there is too much evil
for heaven to have room for it.
IV.
Yes, God will forgive me for saying
that word when it slipped in,
even if you will not.
And what’s even sweeter,
I don’t care if you heard it or not.
I think when he heard it,
he might have laughed, too.
That’s about as silly of a thing to say
as it sounds to you.
Yet, I don’t think Jesus would die for me
unless it was true.
V.
Today, perhaps for the first time
in my whole life,
and I have lived a while,
I was learning to speak love.
I can’t believe I’ve not spoken it before.
I can’t believe I’m speaking it now.
Part of me fears I’m stealing lines.
But then, aren’t all prayers plagiarized?
VI.
Jesus, yours is a name
which could be claimed
forever and ever
and no sin be spoken,
if the Spirit lives inside
even just a smidge or token,
even if one is broken--
maybe especially if one is broken.
