Poetry is personal. I dug through my pile of thrashing on paper before, looking for something to share but most of the verbiage lies too near my heart to publish. A post over on Anna’s blog brought this free verse to mind and after a quick read-through, I’m thinking maybe others can relate.
I wrote this when my voice was gone entirely. I walked through the house day after day, careful to focus on the floor to keep from making eye contact with the beast. He said he didn’t like the way I looked at him. It made him angry. He ‘could tell what I was thinking’ and punished me when I no longer felt by going after the children. I did what I had to do to get through each day.
For those who might not be familiar, the imagery here speaks of a common teaching in the church concerning the Bride of Christ. The concept of a conquering King returning for His Beloved is both mysterious and haunting and that’s the realm where I believe it belongs– A mystery, near the heart of God, to be revealed in His perfect timing.
Song of the Bride
I want to sing of Your goodness but I have no voice.
My voice alone is muted.
Of all the creatures in all the universe, I know Your kindness, the depth of Your love, Your fire, Your passion. Our story is written in the heavenlies, blared across time, hidden in Your creation.
I can tell Your marvelous works, outline the majesty of Your compassion, string together the thread of Your determination to pursue a bride, to purchase her freedom, to bathe her wounds in the oil of anointing, the wine of gladness.
And I have no voice.
Let me declare Your goodness into the heavens. Let me tell of Your sweetness to a new generation. Let me proclaim Your salvation, the acceptable year of the Lord.
Let me hold You close, sing into Your ear of little things, quiet things we share.
You have sung over me from the time of my coming into this world. Your songs awakened my heart to dream of arms that hold without demand. Behind I see a trail of songs, bringing life, bringing hope, resurrecting the dead.
And I have no voice.
Another song I ask of You. Awaken the dead once more and sing me a voice into this sleeping world.
What will happen if Your Bride is mute?
Prepare a voice for me, keep it safe until You call it forth in the fullness of Your time.
Until that day, I will lay in Your arms and sing tiny songs of freedom.
Your smile is my very great reward.
November 29, 2009