I have built this wall,
brick by brick.
I’ve mortared it all,
sturdy and thick.

I remember the time
I was washed in forgiveness
my face wet with tears -
my sense of self released
as I lost that heavy load.

I turn, and start another
line of bricks,
heavy with the mortar
until it sticks.

Each year the wall gets thicker
and the light is sometimes thin.
Each week the wall gets higher
so that nothing will get in.

Still, I can remember when
I was stripped of all my woes,
the weight of sin washed clean,
burdens lifted from me
to feel that touch within.

I turn, and start another
line of bricks.
Heavy with the mortar
Until it sticks.

It has been many years
since I began this wall.
I've spilled too many tears
as the bricks built up so tall.

And though the memories
allow the light’s way in,
I know - deep inside of me,
I’ll not break down again.

I have built this wall,
brick by brick.
I’ve mortared it all,
sturdy and thick.

I know that when it’s done,
I've placed the last brick of this room,
that when, at last, I’m through,
it will become my tomb.

Lin Cava©