015 // the flood // #100daysofascent #100daycreativechallenge

grief carves a hole in time –
stretches minutes taut as they will go,
until they last hours, and hours last days,
and all the hollow spaces fill unbidden
with memory, and replays of
what-might-have-been,
what-should-have-been,
what-will-never-be-again.

the languid eddies of sorrow
swirl and rise like the tide,
the aching overflow of love.
I stand unmoving upon the rock,
and embrace the flood.

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011 // a meditation on trust // #100daysofascent #100daycreativechallenge

dear heart,
when you are besieged on every side,
when sorrow has surrounded you
and threatens to take you captive

set your trust upon the One
whose watchful love
will never let you fall.

lift up your eyes –
beyond this darkness that overwhelms,
mercy encircles you,
and blazes on the hill tops.

See, Love rides with healing in his wings,
his faithfulness is
your guard and your shelter;
stay. help is on its way.

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008 // ambush + counterstrike // #100daysofascent #100daycreativechallenge

I was standing in my kitchen
cutting vegetables
when grief ambushed me again,
and everything beneath
the harsh florescent
began to swim.

and it’s hard not to feel
like Love was sleeping on the job;
like his promises
are nothing more than wind.

so i lift my eyes again
to the One my help comes from,
there’s so much here
my aching heart can’t understand,

but standing in this sorrow,
I’m reminded Love holds me still,
just as faithful and as sure
as he’s always been.

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006 // the wind + the cherry blossoms // #100daysofascent

the august wind
is unseasonably warm today;
it blows in belligerent gusts
through the cherry blossoms,
sending soft pink drifts
across the grass.

I stand among the trees
and their usually light fragrance
hangs heavily in the air.
the bees tumble and spin
from one flower to the next;
struggling to gain their footing
against a force
mightier than they.

I lose myself in the wonder of it;
how quickly the blushing buds
bloom and fall,
the bees’ persistence
in the face of overwhelming
opposition,
the way the trees bend and yield
but do not break,

and for moment
there is no grief here;
only ephemeral beauty,
a wild wind,
and peace.

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