Light, fragile, buoyantly beautiful
and strange they emerge from
woolly woven tombs and skins
of hairy fur and no wings.
Just legs, too many and multipede
in creepy ambulation from plant to twig
avoiding the crushing boot and pecking beak.
Do they know, what they are and will be?
Do they crawl in faith, miracle filled
Or do they toil, in their
earthbound blind and brown dimension
to fall into chrysalis, not knowing that
may my cocoon be wrought
by Your Faithful and Loving Hands,
May my tomb be rent
by His Faithful and Fierce Sword of Light,
and may my cage be carried
and left behind in moments
We were away for Thanksgiving, and it was such an odd time for me, as I was simultaneously relieved to be away from the mental and verbal abuse of work, and dreading the return.
The end of Thanksgiving also signified the beginning of the Holiday Season, and I expect all family members to be at home for Christmas, and this prospect fills me with happiness and dread in equal parts…2 know nothing of my TG, and one knows and has not responded well…so that time appears fraught with danger and I am anxious about it.
People speak…no, I myself have spoken of trusting in the Lord. Everyday more and more is stripped away from my life and really all I have left is to trust Him. What other option is there? Curse Him? That would be like denying gravity! The fact is that I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have entrusted to Him until that day. It is going to be an amazing healing when He returns and sets things right again.