10/20/2014

 

Take me back to God’s garden.

Before time collected every 

    w

a

  n

    i

  n

          g 

h o u r.

Before  the

rotting morals and selfish deeds,

before the apple in red 

poisoned the white 

soul to a venomous black.

 

Take me back to those baby eyes of blue. 

When hope never fought the mind

because crossing monkey bars was like conquering raging seas,

and scrapes were victory scars

not deep enough or

close enough to the heart 

to ruin.

 

Take me back to an open chest of dreams.

Before failure exhaled my existence,

when I traveled in pumpkins 

down 

           yellow 

                        brick 

                                   roads

before I knew storybooks were not 

bibles of truth and relevance, 

but tall-tales sprinkled with glitter,

coating heartbreak’s sting in a candied-shell.   

 

Take me back to the blood of a pure heart.

Before my choices reflected

paralyzing mistakes,

before confidence evaporated from my veins, 

soaking up every vile of faith,

setting in stone my unworthiness of 

the Everlasting Hands who

 —for reasons I’ll never understand—

still yearn for my insufficient, wavering praise.

  

When I dedicated 

patience 

beneath a ragged umbrella,

before tormenting lies 

crept…b…a…c…k… 

in.

Chains of temptation fell powerless

because I. Believed. 

Someone, please

take me back 

to God’s arms of Love.