Tuesday, May 24, 2011

One word of salt...

If I had one word to speak
alone, it would be a cry
not a word,
a shriek of joy
and a hoot of owl

that speaks
to you and all
that I love,
with thanks.

How do you stick with my
impatient heart?
like glue made from
flour, and water, and
salt of the earth?
or of  mud
or tentworms on a burning bush,
hidden, waiting, indestructible?
Prayer stretched worship
pulled our hearts
tight to its hoop,
and stitched us
back again
into ourselves in You.

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