O, how I have been assailed,

brought low to the belief:

My importance is less than the people who occupy the space I call home.


Car keys in hand.

Or back pockets.

Money in their wallets.

Credit cards.

I’ve been hindered by the thought:

I am not adult.


At world standards.

Dread swells my heart with question.

What will happen if (when) I’m left alone?

When the ones I love pass on to different life stages?

Then, finally welcomed to Your humble abode?

What if I go first?

I don’t want to be in pain when I do.


I’m not ready.

I still yearn to see,

be with You


I don’t know why

everyday is palpable


Why my heart is burning up

because I know You are standing beside.

Holding my right hand.

Gazing upon my face with the joy of a father walking his daughter down the aisle.

To her Beloved.

Except I am already with Him.

A bride, child, beaming as He exclaims:

She is mine, she is mine, she is mine!

My only one.

How lovely.

How fair.

Of whom I take great care.

Promising, Do not fear, my darling.

You have My blessing love, eternally.

I can’t keep away.

I echo.

I am fearfully & wonderfully woven in, by You.

Your works, such as this love,

I well know.


2 thoughts on “Vowed

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