my love, His Love

I AM

The face that shares smiles to people whose past

still lasts

in every line of their face.

Who patiently listens to stories of

breakups and

heartaches and

messups

yet waits...

for someone to ask about me.

The girl people “know” and look up to

adore

but never attempt to befriend.

Yet solace I find in the old yellow keys

that once gleamed

of ivory

but have faded with amateurs practicing

praying

in hopes of perfecting

each note.

In the music that sings in my room, and the car,

during dishes and laundry

through my MP3.

But more importantly

through the peace and the love

that I find in the

pews of a small-town church.

As the Spirit convicts and leads

as the pastor preaches and reads

from the Holy Book laid on my lap.

Oh! That Book brightens days

when the worn away pages

speak truths that leap into my heart.

As the verses though faded

speak plainly to carry

away all the burdens I have.

It points to the One who willingly died

so that I

could be cleansed

from all wrong I have done.

And His arms of consuming

relentless

pursuing

wrap love around sinners like

ME