You grab my hand, pull me out of the madness.
Take me to that place, where You’re the only face,
I can see. Careful fingers unbraid cherry curls,
draping a tightly-held cardigan, on the anorak’s
open arms. And when I look away, guide my
eyes so they gaze into the aquamarine of Yours.
Planting soft kisses on my barren cheek,
You water me. Talking with a voice far
sweeter-sounding than a lyre. Words draping
over me like velvet, until I find some of
my own. No longer dictated by a script.
Gently peeling back the layers of myself,
you finally find my soul. Once blue, now
Golden-hued, thanks to You.