On Becoming a Living Sacrifice by Ayooluwa E. Adekoya Ìmísí

Led in the quiet of dawn to a mountain
Lay on an altar
With a tong in his hand, an angel began to fill my bones with a live coal
As Isaiah with the seraphim.

This altar—a war zone
Body & spirit, wrestled
He spoke in the softness of softness
And sap! my shoulder girdle, broken!
The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon

Still, like the Psalmist's still waters,
Anguishing, seeking rescue
No tuft of me found escape
In this ritual, there was no remnant
I emerged from a cot of fire cradling my body into an offering
Rumble of war songs serenaded into worship

Before the ascendancy of smoke shaded the heavens with hues
Or pop sounds from things exploding in the fire hit the incense room
The One seated on high sniffed the scent and called it a sweet-smelling savor
This is how I become a living sacrifice.

Ayoola E. Adekoya Ìmísí is a Nigerian writer/poet and medical doctor who writes from Osogbo. Her works have appeared in Agape Review, Afritondo, The Shallow Tales Review Literary Magazine, Parousia, Eboquills, Shuzia, CLH's Anthology and elsewhere. A staff writer at Christ A Poet, she's the Editor-in-chief of Scent & Sceptre Teen Magazine and curator/founder of Star & Nectar Literary Magazine. When she's not writing, reading, or attending to her medical passion, she enjoys singing, listening to music, cooking, & telling children in the neighborhood twilight tales.