Stone Lips

Coming from my stone heart

Appeared right next to me

During my quiet time

One morning

For the first time

Making real

The silent lies

I have lived by for so long.

Out they came . . .

As if from the arm of my prayerful couch,

As real as a snake in an apple tree.

Reminding me how I was forever alone,

How I would never need anyone,

That I was unloved, always was

Always would be insular to the world.

The liar was killing me again

Repeating those infectious words . . .

Stone lips drum beating

Repeating the sick song I knew so well

Believed for so many years —

Poisoned truth.

Caught and held in the still air

I became renewed,

My stone self abruptly denied

Like dry grass thirsty for dew . . .

Aware of God’s grace I began resisting,

Against my untrusting heart I trusted,

Exposing my uncaring soul I cared.

Something stoney left me,

Whispered as it left,

“You are nothing.”

“Yes,” spoke my rescuer.

“You are nothing.

Nothing

But a sinner.

Nothing

But loved.”