The Covering

frost crystals

She wrapped her naked soul in frost,

Afraid of being known;

But hiding came at bitter cost –

This skin was not her own.

She lost connection to her core

As frozen walls were raised;

The warmth of Love could melt, restore,

So she could live unglazed.







Candid Camera

You think

that these layers of cold pseudonyms,

6-ply stratification,

red-herring Venetian mask

will conceal inadequacy

and cloak sparse spirit,

but I see you;

your true colours

spill through the cracks

of your costume.

Fig-leaf false fronts

are destined to fall;

lay smoke screen aside

so I can

touch the true self,

and be blessed by your

candid camera.


For more on this topic, visit Growing with God in my Garden