From my scattering
I am gathered in.
From my grasping
I have let go.
From my anxiety
I am held
secure
as a swaddled child.
What I hold
holds me.
What I touch
touches me.
What I love
loves me.
Captured, enmeshed,
I am free.
That is the way it is when I am wise and allow God to hold me in God's hands - but sometimes I'm not so wise. That is a very insightful poem. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteStay wise, Lynda. You have great wisdom.
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