In Your image
I am made
You, who speaks to storms
In their swirling rage
Whose voice sorts and quiets
Furious tempests
And I have faced the storm.
I have made my lists
Cataloging my identity
Who I have been historically,
Who I think I am,
And who I hope to be.
These blows landed fair
And they felled me to my knees
My muscles spasm in pain
But also contract to lift me
To propel me upwards
Once again, toward the sun
And when I stand, I’ll walk,
And when I walk, I’ll run.
“Let us run with endurance
The race set before us.”
Hebrews 12:1