Remember, Lord, when babies
nestled on my lap, toddlers
tumbled through the house
and laughter was a chiming clock
pealing the wine of benediction?
I trusted You to provision our pantry,
shape our daughters to sculptured pillars,
our sons to tall towers in their prime
Your arms hold the earth, sustaining
Your eye on the sparrow, omniscient
Your angels around us, protecting
When losses began the clock stopped,
grace in disarray: cancer,
failed friendships, lost baby
twisted heart stock-still
Are Yours the hands that stretch
to snatch us from our foes?
If so, where are You
when death seeps through the door?
In the midnight hour, breathless,
I cast my cares on You
who maps the mysteries.
The clock chimes, You whisper:
Pour out this chalice of unripened faith,
embrace the mortal patchwork
Only the cup of infinite sphere,
sweet and bitter interlaced,
will quench a thirsty soul.
You wear Your crown, bleeding
You carry Your cross, stumbling
You conquer death, triumphant
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