Falling Grace Upon His Face

You come to me.

My darling, your light

shines exquisite.

It isn’t mine, I whisper softly

into this ending night.

You’re smiling now.

This little light was Your gift to me.

Sad, lonely, empty, waiting, aching,

longing leads me halving my soul.

One for me.

One for you.

We don’t eat.

Rather, You question.

What’s the matter?

My heart hurts

everyday now.

I don’t understand.

I want to cry when we’re alone.

You keep coming closer.

I keep unraveling, watching

trees undress slowly before my eyes.

Bare.

Raw.

Marked

Upright.

Still.

Knowing You’ll come

sigh spring,

defrosting winter’s spell

I’m easily put under.

These leaves I crunch

underfoot, they’ll soon die

a frosted chill.

Piled precipitation

I’ve spilled on You

through ink.

You don’t react

how I assume You should.

You don’t yell.

You don’t scold.

You don’t point

a finger shaming me.

Nor apathy.

Darling, come to me.

Your eyes speak.

I love you.

Palpable.

Falling in Your embrace.

Kiss atop my forehead.

A fragile artwork given

divine grace.

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4 thoughts on “Falling Grace Upon His Face

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