After your soft heart
has been ripped through
by Suffering Unexpected
and it seems nothing
will grow here again,
Grace remains
patient to hold you
tight when you pound and pound,
begging questions with
no answers.
Held tighter still.
Grace that never stops,
always present
and chasing after you as
you
scurry about,
retracing memories and
promises and always
needing just one more
piece,
looking under rocks
through the woods
and sometimes the houses
too.
Which began when first
words were uttered, now,
it sits with you, on
this tree stump
and tears help flowers
grow
where life was taken.
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