I want to weave words
like spiderweb cords
Catching thoughts
like the mist the morning drops
displaying gems this vapor life tries to hide
Yet so often thoughts just condensate in my mind
They drip down my cheeks
stifling the utterance my heart seeks
And so I write,
though words come slowly
though I am not one to speak verbosely
Silence, I’ve learned, can be a strength but also a handicap
And so I write,
because sometimes hieroglyphic feelings need a Rosetta stone map
because I know one way to remember truth is to etch it on a tablet with your own hand
because when I read these Ebenezers, they become a trail of white stones leading me back to Christ the Solid Rock on which I stand
