The clouds hated me for drifting.
And I in righteousness will see
The face clouds lose track of
As they dissipate. I see
The light beyond the heavens
Further than the room I'm in
And further than the ceiling
And much taller than my sin.
The trees hated me for raising
Hands to reach for more than this.
There's more than feeling un-lonely,
Greater than the sweetest kiss.
And I am freer than cranes. Or herons.
And delighted in the rain.
Though, the beating of your wings
Puts my heart to greater strain.
The wind hated me for unmaking
And unwinding my own coils.
I last longer than a moment
And my wounded spirit toils.
But I'm unmade as I should be.
What I'm not is still enough.
I am carried, drifting, raising
My soul to greater love.
postscript
Some sentiments just merit an enough/love couplet. Inevitably. Haha. But seriously. A description of how it feels to let go of what it feels like the rest of the world wants you to do (how it seems to expect you to stay stuck in your rut of sin), and not to trust in Grace to get you out. But fight for it--the Lord fights for you.