A Cavern Heart, You Will Not Despise

Photo by Silas Schneider on Unsplash

A Poem by Madison Zuniga

After Psalm 51

the cavern sighs, whistling and vast

with walls glistening, newly wet

from torrents of sudden erosion,

foam spitting through crevices

and creaking rock apart

upon the fault lines.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,

And cleanse me from my sin.

the flood has now drained

into the black earth, leaving

displaced pebbles like spots of rust

or amethyst glinting, while

some indirect shaft of light

bounces a dim glancing gleam across

the inked and empty immensity,

revealing the stillness of slow-blinking eyes

or the discreet dips of a breathing chest.

Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts,

And in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom.

this place is raw and washed away,

leaving a soreness, the gentle

pressure of a bruise, a good ache

unasked for but necessary to

notice this new negative space,

uncovered by affection’s deluge,

more than a hollowing,

rather like a hallowing.

Madison Zuñiga is a poet, sculptor, and short story writer based in San Diego. She is most inspired by the living Word of Scripture, which always manages to surprise and delight her in turn of phrase. She currently studies fiction through Point Loma Nazarene University’s Masters of Writing program, where she is blessed with a constant ocean breeze and lots of local coffee shops.