I had a home,
a hollow shell;
a place where love
and soft farewells
were scooped out by
a swelling tide
of bitterness
and empty pride.
Within my shell,
long years along,
deep places rang
their lonely songs;
the flooding pains
ripped in and out;
great holes were cut
by fear and doubt.
Then whispered voice
and fingers firm.
The God Eternal
made me learn:
my pain a porthole
for His face;
the pulling tide
His grip of grace.
Held tight by Him
I could not run.
I had to bow,
I had to come.
I am a home,
a hallowed shell,
a temple carved to
house deep bells.
They resonate in
caverns, framed
the perfect shape
to shout His name!
©2014 Thrive