Forgive me, Father
My voice has been a viscous flood!
Forgive every pelting word of flesh,
Blind in faithlessness, exacting blood,
Daring You to bare Your arm
With judgements I myself deserve
On my knees, I repent all these,
Do what You have reserved
For hearts that will not yield
Not my will, but Yours be done.
Forgive all who repent, from me too,
And help me to swiftly run
The race that’s set before me.
I believe You. I believe it all.
Thank You for humbly being with me
When all my towers began to fall
And I would have been crushed
By the crashing stones
But You walked with me as a shield.
I was never alone
Even when I accused it.
Be for others what You have been for me.
The world would be tedious, pointless,
Except for Your sharp kindness and beauty.

Radiating like a beacon.

Keep making Masterpieces
Masterfully.

I’ve had time to settle,
But I still can’t diagnose
What exactly happened,
What caused the death blows
To all the life we built

On my shoulders, I feel I carry
Though I can’t extensively name,
Much or all of the responsibility,
The burden and the blame
For what my children lost.

I’ve spent a life in constant conference
Stepping out on the count of three
Only to look around and discover
It’s only me
And a forced juggle.

I’m tired.

I’m sorry when I blame
Anyone besides myself
I don’t know how others think
How they live, how their health
Directs their decisions
Impacts their social worth
With my life résumé
No corner of the moving, shaking earth
Will ever belong to me
I can’t hold it; I’m too weak.
Unless God in His grace
Bestows it to the meek

And exalts the humbled
With the impossible ability
Of bearing the weight consistently

Without falling to a knee.

For my part, there’s nothing left
But to depart as bereft
Spare no goodbyes,
Bury all other tries
And forget how it felt that brief day,
For a moment, I believed I could be okay

On my own two feet.

In the pale light of morning
After waking to a wonderland
Sheeted white and untraversed
A thousand delights at hand
My children dance around me
Unrehearsed and unrestrained
Joy and awe and love and hope
Proceeding in unbroken train.

They say how glad they are
I am home with them to see
The piles of snow, because the snow
Always reminds them of me.
I feel the flurries behind my eyes
And blink away the grief
I pull them in and hold them close
Each touch a deep relief.

I hope each embrace is immortal
Each one may somehow convey
The wealth of all my love,
All I don’t know how to say.
If I am ever old, on a morning
Breaking gray, cold and dim,
In a house full of empty rooms
I will watch each snowflake thin

Dance and frolick in the wind,
And in it, I will see each of them
Dancing as they used to do
And I will weep with gratitude

For every precious hour.

A snow map helped me find my way
Into this tiny town
That has grown in value to eclipse
Every prior abode, hands-down.
Now the desired snow falls
Filling this space to the brim
But it’s colder in the exposure
Without the illusion of him
Memory like the snow
Sometimes conceals, sometimes reveals
Time is a wet-toothed shape-shifter
It hides instead of heals

I wish I had some solid ground
To hold and support my feet
What I have wrought, what has become,
Subdues me, leaves me incomplete

Always working for what stays out of reach.

Tiny crystals in the light
Shimmer, flake, and fall
Collecting in a gathered dance
Covering all
The look of fresh and pure
Painting over yesterday’s road
But somewhere underneath
Frozen, amnesic loads
The same ruts are carved
If you step out, too bold,
You may trip beneath the drift
Slip asleep beneath the cold
The earth is old, but the newness of snow
Beckons appeal in pale patina
With whitewashed skin over rotting bones
What hides below the icy arena
Isn’t clean.

Forgive me
If my love wasn’t deep enough.
We’re all still here;
Was it really that tough
Or was I too sensitive?
He’s a man
Not a monster,
And he still stands
While I fall and flounder
What did I think I deserved?
What could I have possibly sustained?
At least he’s had the constant nerve
To remain no matter what
No matter who
I turned out to be.
I wish he loved You.
I feel like I’ve judged him harshly.
What has he actually done?
Have I forgotten something important?
Why was I desperate to run?
Have I burned him out now?

Please don’t let me make him worse
Because I exaggerate what is.
Please don’t let me conflagrate
The years here for my kids.
I’m tired, and all my decisions
Are bad, I know.
I yield to the rising tide-
Direct its flow

Around me.

I don’t really remember
What I was doing here
In the first place, in last place,
You said Do Not Fear,

So I wait where I got lost
For You to find me,
Reclaim me, restore me,
Remind me

How I got here-
Where I am,

Where I am supposed to be going.

Deliver me there.

You met me on the dirt roads
Alone under Your expanse
You sang comfort to my aching soul
With a harmony of circumstance
You found me before, in the crowd
While in the congested cities
Lost in the flow, the current,
The hum and buzz of anonymity
Pulsing in density and activity.
You held me in all, Tender Shepherd.
You begird my wounds
With hope conferred.

You are that Hope
Cradling the little chicks
Under Your mighty wing.
Keeper of the wicks
When the darkness creeps
When shadows run long,
Your timing is timeless,
Your tender song
Causes the cold and proud
To stamp and stumble
Falling low, but You lift the low;
You exalt the humbled.

You spin the world
And flip these features
So we must face and respond:
We are the creatures
And You are the Creator.
How good it is to praise
Our Father Eternal
Weaver of Days
King of Synchronicities
The tapestry You weave
An opus in hidden image
A secret delight to those who believe

And in the eye of faith
Those who can see, see
The higher calling and final becoming
Of True Beauty.
You give the best sight to the poorest,
All the wealth of man
Leads to blindness;
You shorten their span.

Lead me, True Shepherd, to the end.

I have always been
A misplaced girl.
I struggle to know
My place in this world.
I spend so much of me
On other people’s kingdoms.
If I have unique contributions,
I don’t see that I bring them.
I stack tasks and days,
Toiling for my daily bread,
I long for some way to be
Free and freely Spirit-led.
I ache for the quiet, simpler days
Nurturing my little foals,
The time in absence erodes me,
Leaving behind a brittle soul.
I now hide the truest parts of me
After the gauntlet and the ice.
I yearn to return to who I was
Before brutality and lies.
Instead I march onward
Waiting for the change to bloom,
Waiting for the end of waiting,
Waiting for life to resume.

Working at the Waiting.