I walked around the grounds
And saw crutch after crutch,
Piled together making one
Huge collage of life-like
New beginnings.
On the inside, colored glass
Beamed in the sunshine,
You didn't need
The ugliness of incandescent.
Everything about the place
Shined and gleamed
Like a car freshly washed
And waxed. I stood there,
In awe of its beauty
But I began to wonder,
Am I good enough
To set foot in here?
I am just an imperfect woman.
I am nothing like
The perfect beauty
Surrounding me now.
Does He know I'm here?
Should I have knocked first?
Would He want me here,
Basking in all of this beauty?
I hope He shows up.
Does He come here on
Days that don't start with S?
The chatter filled my head,
I left confused, ashamed,
Imperfect, and unworthy.
I finally found the ugly concrete
Of the outside.
I started to walk in a daze
Of thought and simplicity.
Left foot, right foot,
Left foot, right foot.
I looked up and there it was!
Big, sturdy, and quite old.
The leaves as bright
As they could be.
I ran to it like a school girl.
I stood underneath its bigness
And I looked up.
He's here.
I know He is,
I can feel Him.
I think I can hear
Him too!
He's saying that I don't need
An invitation.
And saw crutch after crutch,
Piled together making one
Huge collage of life-like
New beginnings.
On the inside, colored glass
Beamed in the sunshine,
You didn't need
The ugliness of incandescent.
Everything about the place
Shined and gleamed
Like a car freshly washed
And waxed. I stood there,
In awe of its beauty
But I began to wonder,
Am I good enough
To set foot in here?
I am just an imperfect woman.
I am nothing like
The perfect beauty
Surrounding me now.
Does He know I'm here?
Should I have knocked first?
Would He want me here,
Basking in all of this beauty?
I hope He shows up.
Does He come here on
Days that don't start with S?
The chatter filled my head,
I left confused, ashamed,
Imperfect, and unworthy.
I finally found the ugly concrete
Of the outside.
I started to walk in a daze
Of thought and simplicity.
Left foot, right foot,
Left foot, right foot.
I looked up and there it was!
Big, sturdy, and quite old.
The leaves as bright
As they could be.
I ran to it like a school girl.
I stood underneath its bigness
And I looked up.
He's here.
I know He is,
I can feel Him.
I think I can hear
Him too!
He's saying that I don't need
An invitation.
Published by Kimberley Linstruth-Beckom
Nationally recognized blogger of Fibromyalgia (Health.com), award winning poet, home improvement buff, and avid gardener. View profile
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2 Comments
Post a CommentI like how you leave subtle clues for the reader. It's not until the end that the power of the piece strikes me. Nicely done.
Very beautiful... you actually have always had an invitation - it was extended to you the day your soul was born.