On Grief and Hope

I live here now
At ground zero,
In the hollowed how,
The earthen barrow
I once called home.

A life seemingly certain
Toppled by trouble
I hang tattered curtains
Inside the rubble
Unsure where the windows were.

And every cloth
Is a funeral shroud
Even the moths
Are too proud
To feast at the sepulcher.

Before the shell landed,
I sang to You
Now grief, heavy-handed,
Leaves me mute.
Sing over me again.

By my reflection
All is consumed.
Help me see Your resurrection
From inside the tomb

Build me again.

Unless the Lord builds the house,
those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.

Psalm 127:1