I want to be where you are,
For you have a peculiar way of feeling so distant from me.
I am longing for another moment of triumphant belonging.
One that comes like a spurt of overflowing rapture
Within my weary heart.

I am released
From being drowned in deep waters
And suddenly, musical sounds break the muted,
Submerged silence
That for so long flooded my ears.

I see your face somewhere
In the glimmering iridescent halo of the sun.
My iniquities trickle from my eyelashes
And stream my cheeks.
They pool at my collarbones and rush down my arms
Once my chest heaves at the chance to breathe in
More of you.
Then off the tips of my fingers they fall; forgettable, insignificant.

Beached on the shores of my loneliness,
You meet me.
Seeing my shackles, a slave to sin, I am exposed
In my unworthiness and tarnished in self-deceit.
But you loosen my chains, binding only
My broken heart.

The iron turns to sand and I can feel it
Slipping and singing laments into the wind.
Right there is where the temple of self-righteousness
Crumbles.
In a heap of ruins lay my complacency and conceit.

You’ve been waiting to clothe me in the white
Of your salvation, and you wrap me
In a violet righteousness woven distinctly for me.
In the place of my shame, you fill that pit in my stomach
With a double portion of everlasting joy.

Beneath our feet
The earth brings forth sprouts of brilliant green.
Unimaginable colors spring up joyfully
Into a fruitful garden of immense splendor.
Individual flowers bloom for each prayer
Sown by your angels over my soul.

The moment is like a rare jewel or precious stone.
I want to collect it and hold it delicately in my hands.
I want to wear it on my fingers and wrists
For the chance to adorn others
With the sparkling gold and silver of your abundant grace.

Where there are jubilant fields lined with thick forestry,
I see emerald gems lodged half-revealed in the rock.
I see how the veins in my arms match the patterns
Of rivers carving through the land.
I notice the rhythm of my breathing
And the peaceful rise and fall of a gentle shoreline.

If I could see that the blue in the sky,
Green in the fields,
Gold in the sun,
And brown of the rich earth
Rests in the flecks of my eyes,

Perhaps I would realize that you have made me
To always be where you are.


h.v.