An Unfolding Soul

Let me out of this fishing line tangle,

Of this knotted gut,

And this un-ironed selfishness which caused me to become this ball of paper;

Now both fragile and tense,

I curl up in my own self-interest.

So, let me unfold.

 

One corner at a time,

Stretching the scrunched up parts until all creases are smooth,

Revealing the parts of me which have become concealed to others,

Even myself.

 

Let me be open once more,

Willing to written on,

Seen,

Directed without agenda.

 

And see the face of God once more,

Merely by unfolding my resistance.

What are friends today?

Friends are bonded by a love of God,

Love of each other,

Love of all which is love.

 

Love of God.

 

For friends meet in grace,

Where love collides with opinions, treatises, projects, families, calamities;

Finally gathering like uncollected children toys at the foot of the cross,

As the God who never dies, watches us with amusement; His children playing clumsily together with words.

 

Finally, they agree, the mystery cannot be unraveled, but recognize their part in the play.

 

Staying in again.

Don’t really want to come out,

It’s cold,

I’m tired,

Not sure I want you as a friend (don’t say that one).

 

A myriad of excuses to stay put.

Meanwhile, the phobia of inertness creeps through the veins,

Like septicemia,

Without the physical effects,

On my body.

 

Meanwhile, my soul becomes changed a little more,

And sadness remains.