Grace
pool newly made from morning rain,
murky brown and burnt umber
it halts my onward march
I stop to consider the way round
brush and bush lay right
hectic stream lays left
both lead somewhere
playing for time to make my choice
I crouch before it
wondering if I dipped
fingers into its stillness
would I be rebaptized
into the ancient creation
layer upon layer of life
brewing, bubbling in this
sudden fen
God's breath still moves
across the waters
pulling from chaos
this sacred pause
All the tiny deaths
A soul suffers in a
day.
From silence when you
want to speak,
Speaking and being
unheard.
All the tiny deaths
That come from hiding
who you are
And being what you’re
not
The soul withers and
shrinks
Just a little bit
more
With each bitten
tongue,
Clenched fist,
Restrained smile
The truth might set
it free
But honesty takes
courage
And courage comes
from truth
And the truth cannot
be told
So the soul keeps
dying
All the tiny deaths
But without death’s
release
So the soul just
keeps on trying
Clinging to hope and
life and
Waiting for
resurrection
If it should ever
come.
Until then it endures
All the tiny deaths.
