Sunday, March 18, 2007

dropped stitches

The earth is a red line
hot and seamless
it tears the sternum
in the center
of my soul
ripping
past
with furious force
leaving behind
unravelled memories of myself
my unself
my selfishness
that haunts me
like my holes

within the quiet meditation of Your presence
I am revealed
the scared sad girl that I am
the bold strong woman that I am
The two of themt
wins in one soul
fighting a battle
neither started
nor finished
but one must win

It isn't personal, but it is an intimate battle.

To love him
any him
I must loveYou
all of you
I must forgive me,
each of me
and pray
that in the process
I am able to stand.

In the end I am the great house divided
a grand garment unmade
angelic ashes in the heavenly hand
of a potter who has the eyes to see with faith
what my
vision cannot comprehend

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