In the Breaking Place

rudbeckia bud


She raises weary hands high,

knowing that if she aims for

heaven, she just might touch God.


Tendons stretch beyond breaking

point, in the places  where pain

collides with grace; she feels buds


Tear and in the ripping, birth

laughs at the Fall, defies this

gravitational downward


Spiral, dictatorial

dead-weight. Thirsty soul seeks sun

and in the breaking place, blooms.




20 comments on “In the Breaking Place

  1. Wow! This is a good one. Like praying.

  2. Heidi Viars says:

    pain colliding with grace … a good thing 🙂 love it!!!

  3. Caddo says:

    “In the breaking place, blooms”–I love that, sure is true in my life. Hey Mel, I was wondering how school is going??

  4. Gallivanta says:

    Sending warm sunshine-y wishes to chase away the sniffles 🙂

  5. This post reminds me of the Tower of Babel especially the first verse. Men just kept that tower growing higher and higher into the heavens, onwards and upwards, hoping to meet their Maker.

  6. Melody — there’s are Greek columns that a carved with this same pillar style flower~ this brought to mind hisses of Roman history standing against aging prowess~ I loved your metaphor of stretching tendons especially since mine are very contracted~ I never tire reading and pondering your explorations into the leaving behind the ego. Faithfully Debbie

  7. Just beautiful, Melody — I think so many of us know “The places where pain collides with grace” – lovely.

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