Poetry

 

The Soul Behind My Sin

Can you see the soul behind my sin?
Will you see what God sees, deep within?
Can you love the soul you see
behind the mask that I call Me?
Will you love what I can’t love,
lift it to the throne of God?
Can you see the soul I’m meant to be?

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Praying

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

— Mary Oliver, Thirst

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