All I ever really wanted was enough time on your breast.
Long enough close to your heart to stop.
Stop–everything–long enough to feel safe.
I’ve felt closer but not as safe.
Strange, to feel not-so-close and yet safe. Strange,
for my thoughts, for once, to still my heart, for
them to say “Be still. You are loved. You are safe
here. This will not turn against you. This, you can
trust even though you don’t understand and are not sure.”
And for once, my heart listened.
The safety of your nearness turned my heart to Him.
Turning my heart to Him said “Even the worst brokenness
may be healed, even the greatest loss, the nearness
that rejected and wounded and spat…even that may be
healed. Even here, even here, may be the sunlit path
to dreams so bright they remain hidden.”
A tiny circle of vision. Looking at, seeing only the
place where a heart beats strong enough to be broken
by love, within a circle of arms that touches my
hair and does not push or wish me away.
A stirring. A place in my heart that I tried to
put away, mistrusted to go beyond the walls of my
skin, a place that could be my greatest traitor, sending
me to circle Sinai yet again. Or–chastened, wiser
but wild and terrified but reckless–could be met, for once,
in a tiny circle of blue and tan and safety that opens
into the everything of Him.