the Universe.
Whispered and weightless,
I waited.
I waited to be struck whole,
made happy,
healed
By you;
saved
by You.
I waited for peace
to come.
But Hope is an action
And it doesn't wait,
or come when
called.
And you--
and You--
will never save me
or bring me
hope,
lying calm and clean
on platters of silver.
I hope with my feet,
not my head
or my heart,
which lies broken
and bruised
near the graves of
the fallen,
who lie silent
and still
near the fields
where you
and You
once tried to be holy,
once tried to hope,
once waited for peace to
come.
But hope is an action,
and peace is a
verb--
to lift me,
to fill me,
allow me to
soar.
When I hope with my feet
I am saved.
I am healed.
I am made holy
once more.
Stacey Zisook Robinson
(c) 2014
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