A Lenten Poem

Broken Vessels
written 2009, edited 2012

A broken vessel
lies scattered on the floor
light floods space
Light holds the pieces
in His hands, healing each
place where a shadow, a dark spot
suffocated each does not know
air and light, it does not
grow it does not heal.

Without light pieces
brokenness dripping
wasted perfume, disparate,
separate and stagnant;
these do not move, they forget
they fit together, they held
they are meant to hold.

Beloved still yet to be loved
in the chair across the room
sits, hands in lap, open:
in his tender compassion dawn
breaks upon us even as we
broken vessels wait.

Do you feel your sharp edges?
Do you rust with time?

My dear broken ones, broken: wait.