The square blade disappears under the cover of flesh,
hiding its' presence for only a moment
as the metal invades a hand created for service to God...
Liquid of life drips then flows from
the cover of flesh
and stains the ground with powerless sacrifice...
the wind responds
and ushers in fresh vision
to soothe the feet of clay;
the image of the retracted hand tipped to sideways
...dislodging the perverted use of an everyday object...
the blood covers the wound in an instant,
and restores the flesh to created masterpiece...
...and the blood travels to the rest of the sinews and
bone of the one travailing in an earthsuit
and longing for heaven's gate to meet her where she is...
The hand lifts her gaze to meet the eyes from Galilee...
The hand of clay meets the divine palm,
and the sand of the beach feels like a cushion
as the two have a conversation
on a redemptive walk...
7 comments:
Lynne, this is very powerful (even if I didn't "get it" at first.) Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Amen. I'm so glad He is there in the darkest times, reaching out the the most sinking of souls.
Janet,
I am blessed that I was able to communicate well enough to get out of my own head. Praise God that He is there for us; waiting to take our hand and fellowship with us. I can imagine Ella looking into the eyes of Jesus and being overtaken with relief and joy that she was still assigned a place value. The first part of the dream I turned into this poem had haunted me as an invisible magnet. The Lord gave me the rest of the dream as a fragrant balm.
He is amazing.
Have a cup o'joy...
Lynne
I'm speechless except to say that I'm speechless. Maybe I can say something after my jaw picks itself up off the floor. Whew! I need a cup 'o summpn'
Judy,
Speechless? I hope that implies a seed of blessing somewhere in the mix. I sit and write out of the images that swim around in my brain. Yes, these are some intense images. I don't deny that...
However, the hope is also real that those images do not have to draw us down into the abyss...
...breathe...
Love ya,
have a cup o'joy...
Lynne
Speechless as in much blessing. I like the intensity of this even though it expresses something that comes eerily close to home. The great part is how Jesus changes the entire mood as soon as He enters the picture. Where would I be if not for the man from Gallilee? P.S. got your mail. All you guys should check your old stuff to see who's reading it. You never know who you might be blessing! Good stuff
I share what I share because I know it could bring healing to someone out there who may be reading it...I write what I write because it is what I have experienced...I write what I do because I need to heal up from the cloak and claws...
...and I pray that the Lord uses it to bless others above all...
Have a cup o'joy,
Lynne
In reading the last comment I made, I have to clarify that I never held a blade in my hand as I describe in the poem. I have dreamed of them many times. The images haunted me. The Lord gave me the poem as a balm for my soul leakage...I know that it is the grace of God that held me back from acting on that image held before my eyes.
Praise be to God for His marvelous love...
Lynne
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