Poetry

Bare Feet

Burning in my back, sweat soaked sheets. Painful day repeat.

Children screams, then children smiles. Parenting is worthwhile.

Each day mercy comes with the sun.
Dare to hope braces become beautiful.

Ice will quench the fire, time will restore. The healer will strengthen.

Moments of childhood delight. Bare feet on a November day.

Pink striped, purple streaked, blue covered night, silhouettes in sight.

Slobbery kisses, soft blankets, coffee shared. Release the cares.

Release control, it was never mine to have. But an illusion of something hurtful and sad.

Toes tingle, my request mingles, from hopes of leaping to joyful reaching.

Fingers raised, light filtered. A warmth on my skin not a burn.

Outstretched, flesh fanned, arms extended, back expanded, weightless

Flow of glory, full of healing. Fast without breathing. Imagery beyond and never ceasing.

Lips laced with smiles, food in piles, fellowship with the Father.

A walk barefoot in the garden, restoration and reconciliation.

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