Sunday, July 1, 2012

Day 245

Paul had a thorn in the flesh
I picture it in his side for some reason
I feel like mine is in my heart
I've lost something maybe I never had
But the pretense was there at least
And I could count on certain things
Then life choked out even the weeds
Let alone anything that bloomed

I used to think we must be really bad
To go through our individual hells
Together so that they multiplied
And comparatively we looked like screw ups
I thought it must be our strong wills,
Our strong children who are old souls
Satan hates us or loves our weakness
Anything to make sense of it all

There are scars on my body
There are scars on my soul
But not just on me alone
Though it is too much to talk about
So we sit in silence uncompanionably
We can't undo the experiences
The large land mammals in the room
The great expanse between togetherness

I know the finger of Christ heals all
My testimony is in place as is yours
But I can't see over the summit
And I'm so very very lonely
Pride is gasped in great gulps
I always trusted in your feelings
Though I often cast them aside
And now I see, though it's so so late

Healing within me I recognize
Healing in us, years even eons of time
Mending what's broken
Stripping all reinforced walls
Until all is bare, raw, primal
This frail tabernacle recoils
At the thought of such at one ment.
Which is why I have to try.

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