flower

You call me into
this quiet space
where You alone
can teach me
You, of the Soft Hands
and the Tender Heart
You, of the Fierce Freedom
and Powerful Protection

You reach into
my woundedness
and draw me forth
from my own clutching keeping
Out of that tiny, hidden room
where the child is still weeping

You gather the vapor
from all around me
of what I have so carelessly given away
and from it, form a cloud
of cleansing rain above my head
to wash away all fear and dread
with Your kind, insistent shower~
to clear the dust of my diminishment
and reveal the gift of gracious power
You have bestowed upon me

Sometimes I feel
I sleep beneath
the mountain of my prayers
My light reluctant and resting underground
Oh…I have found treasure there
in the dark deep necessity of my hiding;
a Faithful Presence there abiding
while I so busy about mothering and othering
I did not notice I was smothering
in a cold cave of my own making

But once again
You are quaking
in my simple soul
So invested You are
in ushering me into the Light
and kissing me Whole~
in healing me and vesting me
in Your Own colorful finery~

a flower in Your Field,
face upturned to the Sun.

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~Cheryl Anne

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