Falling

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Falling

A glance, a start
It's pins and needles,
The fluttering rush, she's falling down,
Down, down to unknown land,
Or is she swirling up?
Let go and trust,
A soft and silky voice draws near,
But stand her ground she must.
She must.
There is no surety here,
Of whom shall she inquire?
All vision and clarity is impaired
A whim will not suffice
Her heart is rugged from the wear
And mangled from preceding years
The tempest rages through the night
No ground on which to rest her bones
No arms to hold her tight
Steeling her soul, regarding Her Lord
Relenting to His demise
She cannot move, she dares not dream
And yet a plan is yet unseen
Of glorious, placid repose