His body, soon to be broken
My jar, broken for that day
When he pours out His blood for me
So I pour out this fragrance for Him
Preparing Him for Death
While He prepares me for Life
Based on Mark 14:3-9
His body, soon to be broken
My jar, broken for that day
When he pours out His blood for me
So I pour out this fragrance for Him
Preparing Him for Death
While He prepares me for Life
Based on Mark 14:3-9
You sculpted my heart,
From its atriums to its affections.
My heart is from you, for you, in you
And I keep it from you,
Don’t use it for you,
Forget it is in you.
“Take my heart and let it be, consecrated,
Lord, to thee.”
I watch the second hand
wave at the numbers
as he chases the sun.
I trust him more than I should.
Treetops scraped with sun give
an illusion of fall.
Birds sing a bedtime song
only for kids, not all.
Recently, I completed an eight-week writing mentorship with one of my favorite writers. It was a transformative experience and I feel more confident to step forward and be a more consistent writer. My desire is to write more. During the mentorship, we used the language of “exercising your writing muscles.” Like anyone, parts of my writing “body” are stronger than others. But, to stretch the metaphor even more, there are muscles that don’t see as much activity as others. One of those is poetry and creative reflection. I’m going to start with smaller weights, so as often as I’m able, I’ll be posting micro-poems on Mondays, starting today!
With that introduction, here’s my very first Micro-Poem Monday, entitled Malchus. I hope you enjoy it:
I wonder if the servant
whose ear was cut off
had ears to hear
when the hand of Jesus
cupped his face
as He healed him.