Ryanne Molinari

The "wounded surgeon" works while I'm awake
And only by compassion does not break
The heart which beat so steady yet so dead
While severed from the life of Him, the Head. 

The subject upon which His scalpel strikes
Is the awful altar of my blood-bought life
Which, once decked with sentimental blooms
Has become the needed operating room.

Still, how can I give up my whole life to be
Ever the thorn-struck patient unto Thee? 
Much simpler, swifter to submit to die
Than every moment on You to rely. 

Most willingly I'd give myself in death;
Easier the final than the ev'ry breath.

*”wounded surgeon” is a reference to T.S. Eliot’s “East Coker.”