This is, this is
My one regret each new year
Saying I’ll do it
Ever to stall and stay here
Sure it won’t make a difference
Whether I fight or I fly
I’ve bowed to the ease of
Believing this gentlest lie
Love was the goal once
It was the thing I idolized
Blessed with a fool’s strength
Faith that could doubt the ocean’s tides
Now I am uncertain
There is another for me
Sometimes I get lonely
Other times I feel free
God, hear this fleshed wreck
Brilliantly soiled and smoldering
Yet therein lies my heart, my blood
Miracle works within me
What more could I ask for
Spurring me out of my sleep
Thrill, fear of, and comfort in
Love, living, and lent me to keep
Copyright © 2013, 2015 Rachel Zylstra
From The Tacit Turn, 2015