Gnarled gray memories
Over my world
A season of newness
Of pale promises
Buzzing pink whispers
To my soul
Seeds of healing
The Holiness of Heaven
Into my deepest places
This poem was written as I reflected on what I was seeing, an old oak branch and a tender blossom, and what I was experiencing, freedom from toxic shame I had carried for years.
Lord, who may dwell in your sacred tent?
Who may live on your holy mountain?
The one whose walk is blameless,
who does what is righteous,
who speaks the truth from their heart...