Hope Floats

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