It is broken.
Broken hearted. A shattered
Heart. Seemingly Forgotten.
I smell the stench of death around me, furrowing. But even when I am furious, enraged, I know that you are God.
Even though I hear no answer, I pray. With tears that do not fall, it becomes ocean swells within me. In ancient prayers I remember, and I am drowning in grief.
I search for you in the bird’s morning songs, in a feather found. I search for you in the children’s laughter, bitter tasting not sweet. I search for you in the winds. In the sunshine. I search on.
You would have us love. Even as war is waged love is a whisper, a stream of water flowing away from me. What remains is War. The stench lingers on me every morning as anxiety interupts sleep and I wake to wage war, the terror of the night encircling, I know that only God can make me become Peace. Only transformed can my mortal flesh become celestial. It can only be God that changes me from War to Love. From longing for death to willing to live. From willing to live to joy.
I know that I am destruction. This is i have been told and I do not doubt. And it is why I need there to be God. I search. And I continue to long
for Peace.
Logic & Imagination 