Confession
It’s not so much the telling of my sins
(The inner battle stations I’ve assigned
To flesh and spirit and the latter’s sad
Retreats) that makes the air go thin-
Then-thick, the box feel so confined.
It’s not so simple as just feeling bad.
It’s more, I think, the intimacy of
The screen (the listening just behind the light)
Where I disorient, go off the chart,
Beyond below, beyond above,
Adrift within the box’s night
To face the stifling smallness of my heart.
Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them Agape Review, America Magazine, Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website.
I admire this piece, Jeffrey, for its perceptiveness and honesty. I think the final lines of each stanza are particularly powerful. Very effective writing.
An excellent plan for the poem, Jeffrey–bringing out emotional aspects of the experience, by referring to the material surroundings. I’m impressed by the central awe at intimacy, figured by “the screen (the listening just behind the light).” But the whole focus on “stifling smallness” of the box leads most effectively to the penitent’s realizing his stifling smallness of heart in the telling of sins that proceeded from it.
“Confinement” and “adrift” certainly put the “Confession” into perspective. They are reflective of the emotions which inhabit human hearts regardless of their size. I particularly admire public confessions from the heart and soul.