More Check Than Mate

rainbeads.jpg

His moves push all her buttons.

He is a master

at manipulating her tears,

making them pawns in a complicated game of

more take than give,

more check than mate.

Let Me In

asparagus.jpg

Serrated plates,

rows of overlapping scales

went out with the disappearance of the dinosaurs,

died on a Medieval joust;

discard the armour.

Little one,

precious child,

let Me in.

Retaining Water

teardrop.jpg

Retaining water

just makes heart bloat

with unresolved angst;

when tears fall freely,

they water the ground

and cause

dreams

to grow…

For a devotional on this topic, visit Growing With God in My Garden

The Fist

peonytip.jpg

She raises a bloodied Fist

not so much in triumph

as defiance -

 Fist brittle-caked in

a shame so thick

it bleeds in blushes.

She shakes this cupped and twisted

gauntlet at very God,

and drinks rain,

and wakes to dawn,

and grows tired of the charade.

Ambivalence rips deep -

what if the sky’s blue

is for her?

The rain, a gentle nursing?

Unleashing the Fist

into a cup to hold blessing

might undo the last thread

that pretends to hold her together.

She grits her teeth against the

laceration

and pries. one. knuckle.

from its cradle,

saying good-bye to

the Fist.