Into the grey.
Sky slung low.
Reach up and touch.
Mist that brings life.
Arms stretched to grip the edges of her expanse.
To hold it all to my heart.
The wide, heavy sky.
Pregnant with her promise.
Grey the color of creative.
Words on paper.
His Word cocooning me.
In the silky embrace of His love.
The color of my dad
making fudge in the kitchen.
Saying every batch a failure.
Making every batch delicious.
Grey the color of the songs
My own Mama sang at the kitchen sink.
Elbow deep in raising the nine of us
And her worship there my happiest memory.
Sarah's eyes sometimes.
Like the wild grey ocean.
Rolling death beneath her roaring life now.
Thank you, Jesus, that she lives.
Grey the days
Of making and baking.
Of holding close and...
Holding on.
Bernadette
This is beautiful, Bernadette. Thank you for sharing this glimpse of your memories.
ReplyDeleteWhat beautiful poetry you've shared here! Thank you so much for these incredible words painting amazing pictures in my mind, reminding me of beautiful memories. You're very talented.
ReplyDeleteYes. I've been thinking a lot about the way we spent rainy days when I grew up. Thanks for checking in, girls, and may your own grey days be filled with warmth and the love of Christ.
ReplyDelete