ReMolt

skin

It wasn’t the stranger in her skin

but the skin she didn’t own;

the mirror lied to her for years

in countenance unknown.

But when she learned her truest self

was trapped beneath that skin,

she stretched her soul and slipped it off,

re-molted genuine.

Then You Walked By

march-iceHe was desert.

I, so thirsty, swallowed sand

Until I mummified.

He was iceberg.

I, so frozen, craved his warmth

Til all was numb inside.

Then You walked by –

Waterfalls and rip-tide seas

That made these cracked lips burn.

Summer Sunburst

Melted rivers, carved new clefts,

Uncovered long-dead urns.

And oh! the pain

As figments of sandcastles

Collapsed beneath my toes.

And oh! the ache

As Light revealed the chaos

I’d buried deep with snow.

You are water.

I, so thirsty, drink You in,

Til my cup overflows.

You are Sunshine.

I, so frozen, snuggle deep,

And Your arms hold me close.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Faith Flies

barrier-river-ducks

Faith flies.

It rises on wings of hope.

It faces fear –

Doesn’t demand directions,

Assumes the destination is worth the effort.

Faith floats.

It ascends over distractions,

Leaves entanglements and confusion far below.

Faith forms.

It relies on others,

Forges relationships in which leaders are followers,

Treads in paths marked by sandaled feet.

It lands in greener pastures, because

Faith flies.

Let It Fall

bare

Lay them down, let them slip

From bone-white anxious fingertips –

These pseudo-hues, these not-true-yous,

The ways in which you daily choose

To dress your soul in binary,

Faux your skin in finery;

When fiction’s tarnish falls away,

When forgery is let decay,

Your backbone rises plumb-line strong,

Authentic in its truest song.

So let it fall, remove that shell –

You’re beautiful au naturel.

 

 

 

Epilogue

Jan Lake burnt blueberries

Out of the fire, something to eat,

Out of the chaos, something sweet;

As sure as the sunrise from darkness is torn,

After the heartache, Hope is reborn.

****

My husband and I stumbled across a delightful blueberry patch growing in an area devastated by fire. What a delicious promise that the very things in life that distress and challenge us can be the beginning of something beautiful and fruitful  – if we will allow them to transform us.

The Pearl

the pearl2

Enter the worm –

parasitic biting beast,

ravenous for fleshy feast,

wants your soul which, once deceased,

sates its hellish greed.

Feel it squirm –

victim senses dark intent,

groans in grievous sore lament,

acts with speed to circumvent

worm’s attempt to feed.

Stand up tall –

fight invaders of your soul,

                                                  life needs hearts whose flesh stays whole,

don’t relinquish full control;

pain is but a birth.

It’s your call –

you could choose to let them bite,

or you could use your darkest night

to forge a pearl of brilliant white,

outcome of true worth.