earthy

My thanks to Luke Mathys for the "earthy" metaphor describing God's love, and his lending of the idea to me.

His love is

earthy,

yet unearthly.

And deep within it

I am pressed and planted,

a tiny seed,

feeling a little lost in the thick of it,

startled by the vastness

reaching softly round the globe—

immensity unable to be held or contained in frail

clay pots that break like

idols’ feet.

It is here that I wince as

my outer walls break open—

an awakening eye—and something

grows,

reaches up,

part of me I had never

known or seen or hoped for.

Waking is an ache

sometimes—

can I keep my eyes open?

Face the bruises and jabs from thorns,

sticks and stony hearts? Face darkness?

But here He slows me

to a pace—a place—

where I can feel textures,

lean into loam, and know,

He is closer than all that dark.

He readies me to bloom.