Father Rebuilder

The storm struck
With closed fist raised high
Falling, rising, falling again
As the bell tolls nigh
The ornations all stripped away
Torn from hinge and frame
Lost to the easterly wind
Only exposed caissons remain
But all is never truly lost
If You stand in the midst
Though the evicted void
Of spinning winds and pelting mists
Echo the phantom limbs
Of plundered spaces
Even the absences
Are smoothed by Your graces.

Even when everything that still feels
Hurts.

You warned the storm approached
At the first, You set me free to flee,
But told me if I stayed in trust
You would make a blessing of me.

I have stood this ground
Even if only collapsed upon it.
If the day could be weathered,
To my broken best, I’ve won it.

There is only one force firm enough,
To keep my feet from flight,
To force me to grieve through,
To face the demons of the night

One alone: I believe You.

I’m not sure I believe anything else,
But…

I believe You beyond my senses,
I believe You above the storm.