“Lord, lift my son to You”
I lost and found him throughout the years,
In stories that wound and then tangled with tears.
There I lay soaked in a hive of mother fears,
Caught in the crossfire of life’s inner spheres.
I surrendered, bent forth, in soliloquy bared,
And all of my words left your heart undeclared.
You are loved, my son. My soul pours without end.
Nothing could sever or hinder soul’s blend.
Your eyes shine blue like faraway doors,
Yet I wander through the decades of horizons, yours.
More cherished than anything that words could hide;
Inscribed are the visions that love wrote inside.
Lord, carry what I am powerless to hold.
Lift my son’s heart to Yours in Love’s mercy bold.
Be His Father, stir the miracles – the ones that were born
When you formed him in me, your own Spirit’s dwelling sworn.
© 2017 Linda Willows, 2018
My love joys in surrender’s embrace.
It empties to confess; hollows bare in Holy brace.
Thy gentle court, how willingly, I seek your face, I come to Thee.
My soul is fed, I am adoptee.
Holy instant brings prayers’ grace…
at the seal of atonement’s sacred decree.
I moaned with the rumble of rock and wave
Heart lifted its sin, into grace to save.
Jesu, my dear Lord your arms my enclave.
Bowing to Love is such joyous bend’s nest.
Oh, I feel as I pray, I am to be Blessed.
Ecstatic love humbles, Gods’ door has been pressed.
© by Linda Willows 2014, 2017
Sometimes the silence is louder than words,
breaking the bonds that were holding long hopes.
Dreams swell from heart circles that want from inside;
Deaths that longed for reunion; for the soaked tears night tide.
How can the words be poured, more into your heart
my sorrow, regret; a lowly humbled restart.
Aching to take back each cause of your pain,
to lie down before you with God’s mercy refrain.
Time hollows the dream that someday you might call,
and doors make no sense with without a key from the fall.
How could I have known not to touch that one vein,
It was the sole thorn that we shared in life’s pain.
Pray, God grant love stronger in absence of accord,
still losing the price of time, hope and heart’s cord.
Born a mother and son is a lifelong vein’s core…
The heartbeat does utter throughout in strong roar.
© 2016 Linda Willows