by Ryan Mark Richardson

In my pride, I hear my boasting voice roar:

The West Texas sun has tempered me well!

The fence post is large, but strength runs through my core,

and these rugged bones growl, Never have we fell.

Stride by stride, I get the post to the wire,

building my fence wall to guard against death.

Then I stumble, and the barbs bite like fire

Covered in dirt, I swear under my breath.

Recall Humility – that God should fall,

hauling His altar to lay on and die.

That He who stood from time’s start over all

should struggle to rise without a cry,

the Spirit reminds, and He to be praised,

Has done better than what West Texas raised.

I wrote this for Redeemer Christian Church’s art project leading up to Easter. It is my first sonnet, and a big thanks goes to Seth Wieck and Shannon Holt for thoughts, ideas, and edits.

I probably will revise it more; there are parts I’m not entirely satisfied with, but after looking at it for a few days straight, I need a break from it for awhile. Comments are more than welcome.