The First We Learnt Poem by Mark Heathcote

The first we learnt of faith
was a dying fish gasping to breathe
never to be put back.

The first we learnt of a father's love
was a stripe, a flash, a stroke of lightning
shortly followed by a clap of thunder.

The first we learned of paradise
was incinerated by Satan in hell,
told, you're a wolf in sheep's clothing.

By the time I was old enough to reason,
I felt as if I'd spent my whole life.
At least part of my short partial life-

had been spent committing a mortal sin
some-sort of spiritual treason hung over me-
like a hangman's noose in a readied fit.

It choked on my Adam's apple.
When to begin this hourglass
a meeting of two pearls, two swine's
two swans entwined, reflected in one heart.