Tag: writing
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The soul inside you.
Somewhere inside, behind the bones of your breast, there is a spark aflutter, alight that brings meaning to everything I see standing before me. To deny it, is to deny myself, a vibrant collage of all the same stuff, though different when reflected in the views of our perspectives. How easy that light can be […]
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The peace in this.
What does it look like, this thing dancing around me? I can make it out in its bits and its pieces. I can tie them up or shake them out and watch them scatter. I can read the patterns in them, spending nights, forehead soaked in sweat and heart beating to the tune of my […]
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Just call me Gomer.
Oh what a fool I’ve been when you’ve kissed my lips, and I keep looking to the sun as if the sun is You. Just call me Gomer, girl gone wrong and off the beaten track, lost and lonely in Your wilderness. If only I’d look up to seek You. I’ve broken my own heart […]
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The miserable weight of my sin.
Today, I learned that humility tastes like the crumbs of bread my belly aches for. At Wal-Mart, the woman at the register next to me whispered her need for the attendant to come over, but I could clearly see the attendant swaying to the beat inside her own bubble. So I re-directed the attendant over […]
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A hurt little heart.
It’s in between the little bit of light and little bit of dark, the heaven-prone edge of my eye where I see it all unfolding. And as a tiny, hurt little heart, You’d think I’d want to run away, be something that’s nothing like a heart at all. And You’d be right. But there’s this […]
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