Heaven And Hell Poem by James McLain

Being like he
repeatedly struck with clubs and hammers
and though his breathing grows like the grave all to shallow.
She on hands and knees is frequently impaled.
He is confined within her world a green fiery vessel.
She is dragged through the woods the forests of high-trees.
He is made to walk through the cold burning bush.
She is rubbed against the last thorny rose.
Being blind and near death they both learn to feel.
What it was like to be whole.