A divine opportunity
When the razing began, I thought
the garden walls would go first,
(romantic that I am) - a flood of love
upending my unkempt grounds,
exposing a long-hoped-for, hidden eden
but You began with the house,
my shelter, dismantling it down to the bare slab,
leaving intact my walled-in seclusion
and me too numb to foresee or care anymore
what subsequent half-structure
I’ll take to my grave, simply trusting it will be apt.
This ruination holds neither hope nor shame.
Like any other death, of spirit or flesh,
it’s merely a naked possibility, a divine
opportunity for something to be built beyond
the outmoded purpose of the original structure.
O child of God, approach your undoing
with the God-given composure of faith.