Held

This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell
we'd be held.

This hand is bitterness
We want to
taste it, let the hatred know our sorrow.
The
wise hand opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

If
hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And
you survive.
This is what it is to be loved
And
to know that the promise was

When everything fell we’d be held.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

A Laptop Like You

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