Sweet words, sweet heart, sweet twenty-six years. Smiles and love, springs and summers. Beauty galore and miss extraordinary. Soft spoken, bone of the party. Sweet moments spent, sweet contention; bitter contention. Heart broken, lost twenty-six years. Tears that fall into her palms; life? Is life that which impulsively permits cancerous treason into the bone of the party? Lord, how restless you now make that soul who is the simple creature of Your creation.
Bloody blood that flows the disease multiplying fractions of itself into that which laughed and played. Lord, a prayer: ‘Give courage to that who is a mere being, not a butcher, not a dire sinner, not a war-maker; a peaceful flower. Wrap Your hands around her face that covers now in twinkle starry tears. Whisper words of clear solace into her aching ears.’
Lord took those at night while they slept, drowning His waters over their covers. No time for repentance and no time to plead. Lord, a prayer: ‘Show the flower that you grew that You are the One to turn to. Forgive her, Lord, for her twenty-six years and make peace her mind that does ache with distress and disease. Hoped You could have made her well and kept her fond and let this be only a phase of bitter contention. Alas, we say goodbye.’
There is life ahead and much to see past the struggle of biting symphonies. She will be whole again, singing songs and jingles on merry nights and closing her eyes to the prayers she prays to You, Lord. Her heart will be opened and cleansed and she will touch new joys in her new world. You will sit beside her to cure her state and You will build in her hope again.
She had mental ridicule and she had remedy. She cried, Lord. She cried for life. Bless her as she now finds salvation with You.
No comments:
Post a Comment