Because sometimes it’s a poem day

noahs-flood

Grace

is this fragile

matchstick boat

carelessly tossed, flying high

in the stormy waves of judgement

and chaos battering, beating down–

this sliver of stillness

this little shriveled wooden seed

pregnant with new life

ready to slowly crack open

and unfurl

in the thick, rich, good earth

when the rain has passed.

flower

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