The heart

This red, bloody, pulsating thing.

I give it to Him

It’s bruised; having been carelessly mishandled, forgotten and left.

The slightest touch can cause it great pain

What it is good for, I surely don’t know

With gentle hands He takes it and makes it His own.

Why He wants it is a mystery

How He will heal it (if He does), is yet to be seen.

The onlookers are grim

It doesn’t look good, they say

Perhaps it would be better to put it away

To lock it up where it cannot be reached, or held, or hurt any more

I nod in agreement, my eyes pleading, bloodshot and sore

He smiles, “I make all things new”

He says as He takes the heart I can’t bear anymore.

One thought on “The heart

  1. Beautiful! Now try to set up something with the Farrises for next week and schedule time to BUY GROCERIES!! Love, Mom

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