the tides are sweeping over your child,
she gives herself to the currents,
fights no more,
the unimaginable might
of the waters…
For sweet reprieves promised her at the pews,
she will no longer extend her hands,
the child has hoped, and hoped enough
against many odds…
she grieves the rescinding of the heavenly path:
her prayerlessness…
but she no longer wishes to
mind the tempers of the Word
and so she releases…
goes away…
and resides further into the empty,
opening the void more & more…
mourning the absence of a God she loves,
convicted by the gloating of many enemies,
dead & banished from the light.
but she returns ever tired, again & again to Throne
*******************************************
And by ordained luck,
won in Golgotha,
to one day,
stand in the eternal feast,
amongst angels & the saints,
praising the Nazarene
for the promised salvation,
the full presence of the trinity,
& the accusation of none…
