She Dug

Dig

It wasn’t her mess.

She never asked

to be buried alive.

She didn’t even own a shovel.

But her desire to see sunlight

grew strong,

flexed hope like muscles

rippling, horses straining

at the foreign taste of metal

on tender tongues

with dreams of churning hooves,

tasting island sun

like Freedom

coursing through wild veins.

She dug

until bare fingers

left rivulets of red

on bunkers of blue steel.

She dug

until she ached with cold,

fatigue festering like ulcers,

disillusionment stalking

in blizzard’s cloak.

She digs still -

for, having seen a glimpse

of sapphire sky,

her soul will not

consent to being

buried.

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15 comments on “She Dug

  1. Heidi Viars says:

    A long time ago, God put a choice before me … a shovel or a suitcase. I found that shoveling is very hard, but also that it eventually will bring light :-)

    • melodylowes says:

      It’s actually a privilege to participate in the freeing process – what little we can do seems to work some amazing things within us as we see God at work in our troubles.

  2. Lyle Krahn says:

    Digging for the light – not for the faint of heart or the claustrophobic.

  3. andy1076 says:

    As long as the will is there, the human heart will always seek and find the light. Yes?

  4. Pam says:

    powerful images and even more powerful message – great work, Melody!

  5. I like this very much.

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