I have been poured like water,
My words gush forth like wine
Till the heart is sere and bloodless,
And my tears are pickling brine.
I breathe air thin and daunting
A higher altitude
As I strain my understanding
And my vision is renewed.
This is my price-of-paying
Hid from the eyes of all,
Love’s thorns pressed on my forehead,
Till my pride tastes like gall.
Not with the easy answers
Not with the slick reply;
Down like a rock in the ocean,
Never to come up dry.
Straight past the shallow places
Down to the beating heart,
Where a seabed like Procrustes’
Reshapes my every part.
Then, with lips blue and stumbling,
How shall speak the way
To that place I have no name for,
Where love burns bright as day?
Yet I rejoice to be there
Assumptions all unmade
By his scarred hand held tightly:
Broken yet unafraid
No comments:
Post a Comment