RAP: Poetry Friday

I would like to say a humble thank you to all for those precious prayers–sweet aroma to the Lord. Some of you shared stories with me that left me on my knees. Broken people. That’s what we are. That’s why we need Him. That is where I am. Just give me Jesus.

This week’s poetry prompt for random acts of poetry became a bit complicated after I read this post by L.L. Barkat over at Seedlings in Stone.

She just keeps teaching me.

But…

I am still not brave enough to attempt the more complicated form of poetry she speaks of, so here is my free form offering this week:

The Pen

This basement room
down dark stairs
has always felt
so cold
I breathe
musty spores
into my shrinking lungs
This chill
I feel
to bone
tonight
As I come
without you
to teach
the only warmth
these walls
have ever known
Through the frame
I see it
Where you left it
Discarded
Forgotten
Clipped to notebook
Fleeting image
Of this pen
In your hand
Stops me dead
In my tracks
And it is
as if I am
seeing this room
and this pen
for the first time
Sad eyes await me
Scared, grief-stricken
Pale freckled face
Questions
Too big to ask
Where is she?
Am I not enough?
Why?
These eyes ask
I whisper His name
And wispy threads
of love
wind in and out
and over
Lifts sad eyes
to mine
The deed is done
Before I go
I reach
for notebook
And slip
Your pen
Into
My purse
You
Will not
Need it
anymore

Comments

  1. says

    Oh my friend,
    my heart just breaks for you. I don’t know that there is more that I can say or add to what I have already emailed you.

    Thank you so much for sharing your heart, as hard as that is… especially when it is breaking.

    One thing I know… give yourself, and the kids (maybe verbally reminding them it’s ok) permission to grieve through this loss. For it is that… a loss and a death…
    May God show His might power and healing work in all of your lives, and in the church.
    God bless,
    Heather

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