Fueled by disappointment and lonely regret, my heart wrestles.
Teeth clenched, I plunge, gasping for breath. Unable to go beyond what has been, I hold pain like porcelain, all fragile, gilded edges scratched, the smooth worn with cracks.
Petals faded, three years short of fifty. How can you still love me?
I dive again, and reach with both hands from the breast, each stroke an attempt to soothe soul-anguish.
Clutching tight the pieces, blaming him--the one who's eyes I refuse to see--my thoughts bleed ugly.
Couldn't you have made me better? Beautiful for the world to see?
He hands ice cream dripping from a cone, wild berries picked in the heat, husband-lips on my cheek, love whispered.
I hold onto me, can't bear to see what he sees. Pieces broken, sharp. My silence drives him away.
I knew he would leave...eventually.
Like clay hard-baked in a fire, my soul aches, a basin cut full of need.
My children see me only as weak. Why can't I be one who sails through life effortlessly? Gloriously?
In the water I weep. The need--so deep--heaves its way to the surface. Hands and feet scissor through the wet--mirror of sun. I am blinded.
Lids closed, I glide, as one with the coolness. Teeth ungrit. Peace saturates my skin and the wind--like his kiss--caresses my face with whisper, reminds me to breathe.
To let go. I float, looking up to see as I am seen. The sky overwhelms, clouds stretched feathery, two wings out and touching overhead. A sanctuary.
A bird sings from its nest.
And in the shadow a husband returns, waits, smiling hope and wrapping warmth with a towel.
Celebrating who we are with Jen and friends today at Soli Deo Gloria. Come join us!
Photo Courtesy: Fraz Ismat - flickr