there is a place where the sacred is unsafe
the holy burns,
and unsinged we dare to ask if we are secure
we think we purify ourselves
by removing our shoes
never thinking we stand a world apart
paperthin
between this world and the next
where our clay-frail bodies one day will shatter
like the stars
the dead sloughed off
shines nova-bright, now--
how unsafe it is to be burned down
only to be consumed again by holy fire
we shatter
6 comments:
Misty! I saw your comment on my blog and realized I haven't posted Simon's birth-post yet. Yes, he was born, Nov. 29th, and life has been a whirlwind ever since. But we love him and he's wonderful and we're probably doing as well as we can. (Are you on Facebook? There are pictures of him on Facebook ;) ).
i understand this place. standing here, with you, fragile and paper-thin. i have no words, really, for the beauty and the pain of your verse. may His grace be sufficient, until the day when all is made new.
I've missed you. What you write is worth waiting for.
oh , misty.
just oh.
so honoured to read , to know.
hello, friend... thank you for your prayers... lifting you up, as well. may you know bright blessings of His love and light in this new year...
I get this Misty, I know this place, this is just about as powerful as your fragile story. I want you to know that I just finished praying – I don't know the specifics – but I thank you for the chance to pray – I don't even know if you're still in this place – I hope Christmas was good – and they think it's important for you to that I really heart the way that you write. God bless and keep you Misty.
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