A Tale of Two Tangles

There is a writhing of joy a weight of newness and wonder I found myself with overflowing hands a tangled mess of gold, but still ashamed I heard the last thing I thought I’d hear “It’s beautiful” and I trusted it to Him.

It came back with the first mud of Spring beneath the thawing Crucifix and bright air between the rows of story-stones it held the glory and poetry of sunlight and solitude glistened with the hope of freedom

and He said He’d clothe me in it.

There is a writhing of agony a weight of rending, of healing, of ancient hurt and shambles my hands are overflowing again this new thread sopping with filth and grime but this also He desires of me

#Poetry