It was love
I'd painted myself into a corner --
I felt pure there and wise;
one hand tied behind my back;
watching the paint dry; no room
for a wrong move, the only unfinished part
now tucked firmly under my prayer mat.
Reverently, I pledged my life to You.
This is your life? You asked.
A corner where two walls meet?
It was love that lured me into the sunlight,
lifted me from the mat, escaping
precariously through an open window.
Love that enlivened me, made me more
(for better or worse) human.
Love God-sent, threaded through a heart
human like mine, but fearless, roaring like a lion.
Hold My hand, You said.
I'll give you a tour of My creation.
O child of God, offer no gesture
cheapened by fear and accommodation.