Broken, I'm so broken;
Not a recourse comes to mind
But to lift my hands in worship
While the shadows soft unwind.
Like a mist that gently whispered
In the sinews of my brain
Comes a melody of mercy
I like to drown in time again.
Softly, oh so softly,
Comes a warm hand, holds my own.
In the dancing of the dust motes
We dance the waltz I've known
Since I grew up in the melody
We directed up above,
To the choreography
Of races run for love.
Breathing, now I'm breathing
The smell of souls releasing--
I'm twirling in the blood-red wine
Of covenants unceasing.
'Tis humbling to recall
That the steps are learned so slow,
Yet taught by a dance master
With to-die-for undertow.
Dancing, now I'm dancing ;
Eagles' wings adorn my feet,
Floating slowly with a hymn,
Or an old-time gospel beat.
My eyes focus on my dance master:
I will not miss my chance.
I move perfectly imperfectly
In my new-found stained-glass dance.
postscript
Celebration of adding a major. I'm now a double major in the two things I am most passionate about. I came to the realization that serving God is the one thing I want for a job description in the future, and thus I added the major that gives me the classes that will help me study how to do that. Or prepare me for seminary. This poem is not to elevate church clichés. Rather, it is a mixture of sensations that remind me of how I feel working in the church. God is good.