The stars splinter like broken glass, waiting,
A word rises like smoke, like prayer, held
Between the teeth of hope and the tongue
Of doubt. We search for light, forgetting
It lives under the skin, a pulse away,
An ember caught in the ribs of our heart.
We walk on stones that bruise the tender
Soles of our faith, blame the earth for pain,
Forgetting the soil is where roots take hold.
A harsh word swells like thunder in the mind,
Builds walls from fear, from shame, from silence.
Yet, in the small, quiet spaces, He waits—
Not in the grand, not in the sky-split flame,
But in the touch of hands, the soft surrender
Of anger. In the bending of the will, God
Comes closer, a whisper threading through
The noise, asking for nothing but our trust.
A breath taken in love, a bridge unwound
Between souls—this is where He finds us.
-
Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: August 20th, 2024 07:50
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Cassie58
Offline)
Comments2
Most beautiful poetic lines
"Between the teeth of hope and the tongue
Of doubt."
"We walk on stones that bruise the tender
Soles of our faith"
Not being a religious man but would rather consider myself spiritual still loved the tone of this poem "Yet, in the small, quiet spaces, He waits—
Not in the grand, not in the sky-split flame,
But in the touch of hands, the soft surrender
Of anger. In the bending of the will,"
A wonderful write
Thanks brother, I am glad you enjoyed it
Wonderfully spiritual in its content. Great poetic expression and fine imagery. Pleased I stopped by today.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.