NaPM April 22 2015

[cidermaid]

I cried in church today.

I miss the inspiration of your infilling love;
the indentured adventure of being covered by your cloak,
a promise that floats across the divide of broken lives.
You repatriate people like pebbles, tossed in the tryst of a tri-part storm;
wind, wave and gravity rip through the layers of relapsed perfection,
impressing your presence on blood soaked stones.

I am cast adrift among dry walls, left to crumble to dust,
a dud shell, an empty well.
The sweet essence of honey drips in incremental slips
from lips that have never kissed a Lebanese cedar beam;
a collect of grit filled curds, milking the gutters of eyes that no longer cry.
Brittle bells chime to crush the uncut stones, bleeding them to rubble,
drown out the murmur of rolling rocks, recalling the healing tide of salt.

I am a nothing more than a skeleton leaf; I cannot tell you why I weep,
my voice is hidden in a crevice, amongst leaf-litter strewn feet.
I am lost, nothing more than a shadow of a hope,
unstable and clinging to the ullage of the knowledge of your face.
I thought I heard a whisper, wind in the blistering silence of my mind
and felt a hand binding together the cracks below the water line.
And I cried once again as we sang the refrain
as I remembered the weight of you filling my frame.
I miss the inspiration of your infilling love.

 
Starting inspiration line: Cleanse my heart by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit,
                                    that I may perfectly love you.