#29sacrifice

these gifts
we hold lightly,
their warp and weft,
their stretch and sway
as they wend their way
through our lives,
threading them with
just a touch
of heaven’s fire.
we live through them,
and through them
make sense of this world.
we see you, God,
we even draw you,
in green and grace,
in white and gold,
in ink and pencil,
because we are trying,
always,
to make sense of this.
here is the sacrifice:
of time and devotion,
instead of promotion
and the sensible way.
here instead,
a different way of living:
a fractured and colourful life,
an imperfect offering
on an outstretched palm.
may this seed grow,
shooting and green,
vivid and life giving,
until it reaches
all the fullness
it was made for.

This is a poem about the creative life and is inspired by this from Frederick Buechner:
‘And deep in my heart I do believe that we will overcome some day… by God’s grace, by helping the kingdom grow in ourselves and in each other until finally in all of us it becomes a tree where the birds of the air can come and make their nests in our branches. That is all that matters really.