Her Broken wing

In despair, I bow my head. No rhythm to the life I’ve lived, so I pray.
The shadows run and hide at His name. But I could not escape the darkness.

But how pure the sound of God.

And the Spirits dance.

Whispers of the quiet stillness swirl around me setting forth great doubt.
I stay busy, uncertain of what I might do in my idleness. Wreaking of sorrow, I try to reason with my crumbled spirit.

My broken-spirit.

God hears the melody of my breath as I inhale in and out. He slowly becomes my every meaningless gasp. He surrounds my sigh of disgust. He is the very core of my being in my desperate cry.

The very Spirit of Me.

My soul, the Being of God met with an incredible collision, opening a new path. Now even in my periods of uncertainty, my spirit exudes a new fragrance, sweet and tender revealing His presence.

His Sweet Spirit.

And We Dance.

Beautifully Awkward

This entry was posted on November 20, 2010 at 11:33 am and is filed under Uncategorized with tags Broken, Faith, Spirits. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.