Swimming to the Promised Land

icicles on barn

When Sun shines bright, my grip relaxes,

I let go of death and taxes,

pool at place where thirst is quenched,

smile where jaw was tightly clenched.

Puddling messes can be scary,

Life’s complex, and heart is wary,

but when fist becomes a hand,

soul can swim to Promised Land.

*

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

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17 comments on “Swimming to the Promised Land

  1. ericmvogt says:

    A lot of facets to this ice sickle… πŸ˜‰ Love the death and taxes——the only two things that are sure? Perhaps, perhaps not… πŸ˜€

  2. adaisygarden says:

    Fantastic photo! I like the poem, too πŸ™‚

  3. Nandini says:

    Great click πŸ˜‰

  4. Robert Rife says:

    Good message here, Melody. Thanks.

  5. Caddo Veil says:

    Oh this is so gorgeous and spirit-deep, wow-wonderful for sure!!

  6. Debbie says:

    I loved that ending, Melody! You have me contemplating what I need to relax my grip on! God bless you!

    • melodylowes says:

      This is a really important theme for the past year for me – I have been forced to let go of so very much. And as I look back, what I have let go of has made room in my hands and heart for better things – so here’s to letting go!

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