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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. In the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Twenty three

And so I will lay you down
In a field of gray grass,
Bending gracefully with the wind,
And shadowing a hidden, twisted path
That leads nowhere--
Or everywhere.
Forever back,
Until I stand again
At this place--
This field of fearful beauty.

I will lay you down,
Aching with weariness,
A hungering desire for
Your touch,
Your light,
Your laugh--
That is incandescent and
And restores me--
And comforts me--
And feeds my soul.

I will lay you down
And weep,
And be made holy,
Sipping from a cup
That overflows with my grief.
But I will lay you down
And I will dwell forever
Sheltered only by the memory of you.

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