Here I am, Lord –



Tears are my most

loyal companion;

they trace the fault-lines

where sorrow cracks me wide.

Yet I take heart

as I think of You –


As buds are broken to release fragrance,

You were broken to release me.

The beauty of it

perfumes my pain,

gives it hope

and bloom.

For as Your deepest break

birthed your bravest flowers,

my broken

can blossom, too.

Love Is

Love is velvet on a petal of pink,

Rosy scent in a garden’s shade;

Love is a fountain when you need a drink,

A bloom of colour that never fades.

Love is protective, a thorn on stem,

Guarding the heart from the fiercest storm;

Love is layered, a hidden gem,

Mysterious, magical, complex, warm.

Love is beautiful, the bud of grace,

Unfolding in time to reveal sweet core;

Love is a rose, a delicate place,

A vow to surrender, a heart to adore .

You Dare to Bloom…

Daring and brave, this.

Do you feel the weight of your missing petals?

Symmetry has gone on an extended vacation;

Harmony of composition eludes you.

The buds nearby retain their superior potential

And snigger behind your back,

A symphony of clashing comments

All the louder for their implied silence.

What makes you bloom?

Yours is not a  lot to be fawned over,

Celebrated with a named star on a famous sidewalk,

Or heralded by brilliantly garish marquee lights.

And yet –

You dare to bloom…