A bit more wordhavering “poetry.”
From a recent pastoral encounter. Can’t share any details. But the encounter marked me in all the good ways. The taste of it lingers. A good taste on a day when my ongoing chemo hangover has my hands on fire, my head in a vice, and pins and needles in my feet. I can scarce remember a more vivid, gentle God encounter in the midst of such frail human beings.
Juxtaposed with the verse is a portrait of my daughter Hannah by my friend Katie. I see Hannah’s journey somehow reflected in this little ditty of mine, see the lines of her face in these lines.
Thank you, Katie.
And so a portrait and poetry…
At the table she sits
Her fractured heart lying on the table
Others looking on, looking in, with
eyes of uncertain trust
and then the turn
Placed before her out of nowhere
matching her heart
Nervous chatter suddenly stilled as
Tissue tears revealing tears
New identity, though still darkly
Head collapses into waiting arms
by scandalous and unexpected