My flavor is lost and
my spirit is faint within me,
but o my God, surely this salt of humanity
can still be scattered on the ground
to melt the ice we fear.
My light is dim and
my flesh is so very weary,
but o my God, surely this lowly lamp
can still hold one shadow at bay
until rest comes.
My root is withered and
my dream has fallen on rocks,
but o my God, surely this bare seed
can still nourish a sparrow
so its song continues.
Sometimes the palate dulls,
the basket hides, the rocks hinder,
but o my God, let there be eternal grace
and unexpected goodness.
And forever mercy.
cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals