When beauty from ashes becomes literal
When the tragedy and glory of the cross
finds its home on the streets
When loving leads to speechless joy
and unbearable pain
I find myself treading in the waters
of meaning. Am I safe or am I drowning?
When I stand faceless in the crowd,
casting stones at “the other”, to hide my own pain
and fear and insecurities
When I tire from the façade, but weep
at the thought of being seen
Do you God, turn your face away?
When I ache with helplessness
Running the marathon of justice
When my hope is left for dead
in the pit of disappointment
will those bones rise?