we are, by nature,exceedingly sinful, fallen.
A band of broken things
with sharp edges
certain failures at what
we ought to be.
When i look at you, and you look at me
i wonder if we might ever
hold the other gently? while
imperfection most faithfully guides
us straight into
the arms of Christ.
In Him we'll crucify expectations and lies - pride
that demands you not cut me nor i
ever hurt you.
Our foolishness and manifold mistakes
are like a child falling a thousand times.
That little one is you, another is me
shall we burden each other overly?
When forgiveness to our own hearts
is supplied so readily?
...perhaps if i didn't hold on to such an ideal
i could finally love what is real.
ejb
No comments:
Post a Comment