Sometimes Lord
I feel like a dried branch
cut off
withered
a dead thing lying in the dust
I have been torn asunder
from the source of life
by rejection
hate
failure
life
a harsh word
love not returned
consequences of my own making
sometimes I have simply weighed myself down
and snapped
like a branch burdened by spring snow
alone
I suffer
"only love, with no thought of return, can soften the point of suffering" (source unknown)
thank your God for your love
given freely, scandalously
thank you for the love of others
that comes
often unexpected
unasked for
love
that reconnects me
to the source
and restores me to life
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