The Gentle, Powerful Nudge

The passing breathstroke of wind on my heart.
A fire birthed, burning, churning inside.
With the beauty of life, and death.

Pain and joy,
Coursing through my clinched veins, relishing...
Grace. In all its measures. In all its meanings.

Beauty. Kindness. The birth of forgiveness,
Romancing death into the possibility of peace...
Ushering light into a bitter dark cave.

Leaves blown off of me, a tree.
Into a million pieces of quivering....
Possibility. Gentle balance of my heart,
Beating… and feet stepping. Stepping.

Movement. Wonder.
Into the flow of heaven.
Into the promise. Bathing, in the residue of hope.
Into the peace and the presence of heaven, here now, radiant.


This is simply a poem edited from my old blog, "Attempts." It speaks of the wonderment of how the gentle yet powerful nudge of God has a way of transforming us. When we feel cold and dead, his breath may pass over us through a friend, a song, or an idea. His eternal presence radiates in our being, and we are moved by it. From cold deadness to abundant life. Again, again, again. We must learn to live so many times.