3/10/2004 09:17:00 PM|||Andrew|||Wednesday Poetry

the frozen earth resists my digging
but moaning at my burden, it gives
unearthed: a warmer soil in hibernation
feel the loving tilling of my fingers
what is that mystery I conceal within?
gently, gently, lay bloody shards in their bed
whose heart? whose crime?
mine and mine alone

burial in the deadness of winter;
birth in the living spring.
what tree will grow here? what fruit?
a strong tree with good and pleasing fruit
trembling, earth falls to bloody earth
slowly, I trudge away
through ice, past fear, to sun.


I wrote that near the end of this past January, at about the end of a time of great desperation. I think of it as a final description of letting go of something that was very precious to me for a long time. A letting go with no expectation (or desire?) of receiving anything back in return. Looking back now, I'm bewildered once again by the mysterious ways in which God works. Almost as soon as I buried my heart, let go of it, given it back to the keeping of God, it began to beat again with new life. Marvelous. It's like a skit we used to do when I was back in Gospel Team. I'm not sure if I ever quite understood it before as well as I do now. In any case, my heart is in the care of Jesus, and there it shall remain. Glory to God, and to his great Son!|||107898224708338724|||