Saturday, August 14, 2010

Written in June

God
You hold us in your hands
you hold us in your hands
and in that, we are free.

Our
Our hearts are hardened
to bear waves
crashing down
crushing hope
washing up
leaving us worn. war-torn.

Please
God, forgive
heal this place between our ribs
if we call
on your name
would you heal our land?
would you listen?

will we ever
leave this place?
ever see you face to face?
read your eyes just like a map?

I'm looking for the signs
trying to read
in-between the lines
but are we even on the same page yet?

Unlock our skin
show us beauty from within
and if our hearts are Throwing Stones,
soften them.

My heart has to move
before my feet have anything to prove.
And where I am
has nothing to do
with where I sit or stand
and everything to do
with who I am becoming.
(And I've stopped running.)

Bind
bind us near
because you are a God who hears
and sends fire
and sets fire
to wet, weary hearts.

God
You hold us in your hands
you hold us in your hands
and in that, we are free.

--

I'm glad I finally found this; it's been missing for months.  I wrote it pretty late one night, having just come back from talking with some friends at Coffee Grounds.