I walk a path of in-betweens;
Of not-quites
and almosts--
Scattershot potential
spread before me
In infinite array.
But I am filled
nonetheless,
nevertheless--
Never less,
perhaps--
or not quite--
but certainly not less:
I am filled
with wonder.
Filled enough,
so that even on this narrow path
of scattershot possibility,
bordered by almost
and limned in not-quite,
I lift my eyes
Up--
Raised,
like mountains or breath,
In a limitless ascent.
Shaded by infinity,
Yet lit by sun and moon;
Feet sure
on this twisted path of
Potential,
I lift my eyes
Up,
And I am raised -
Like mountains or breath,
And I dance--
Forever dance
In the palm of God's hand.
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
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