the Arch of Life stands before me,
waiting like a soldier’s bride
as the waters of Jordan flow backward
into the intimate parts of my mind.
saints fought battles of the Holy,
withstanding the devil’s fork
as Jesus turned wine back to water
making us all worthy of the Lord.
the Arch of Life is a journey,
spilling the blood of the lamb
into the ole’ Mississippi
while i burn with the music of man.
Robert Johnson drank down the poison,
trembling before his own death
as juke joints kept playing his shadow
the devil just got up and left.
the Arch of Life bends like magic.
