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