Saturday, August 5, 2017
Him. Hymn. Like a song I sang in church. Stained glass windows above my head. Jesus feeding the five thousand with two fish and five loaves. Bow your head with me. He is a secret. A song. A name across my chest. He is arms around my waist and an ear when I need it most. Glory glory. Glory glory. He is my blessing. My basket of apples. I am hungry. I am thirsty. I am weak. I am tired. He is my strength. Protects me from the wind that blows my mind away from peace. He. Him. His. His heart resting on my sleeve. He say his heart is mine too. Glory glory. Glory glory. This is the good news. Glory glory. Like sage all in my lungs. Clean the air. Wipe the tables of all the dust. He is here. Make room. Make room. This space right next to me.