(this is another poem)

You are born with tears in your eyes
and screams in your throat;
air in your lungs the first time is a gasp of cold—
but then you are wrapped in blankets, held in arms,
called precious for the mere fact that
You are here.
You’re alive.
You’ve opened your eyes.

For a few years you live with the belief
that people will come when you cry
to fix everything that is, or ever could be wrong

But one day they just stop coming.
One day what’s wrong can’t be fixed.

Instead the world stands in watchful expectation:
Where will you go?
What will you do?
Who will you be?

You try to give answers,
but the wind sweeps your voice away

When it comes back it sounds like everyone else,
but bites harder
(why can’t you say anything worthwhile you’re not worth listening to you’re not worth hearing)

And one day you can’t explain why you can’t stop crying,
except your doubts have piled like mountains, so high
you can’t see the sun anymore.

Everyone else looks like they’re building castles,
but every wall you form is ripped out by the tide

Finally you move to the desert, swearing things will change:
You won’t listen to anyone,
You’ll build yourself a heart of steel
and if your castle rots inside,
the outside will shine like silver.

Days go by
and months
and years

Until one day you meet this man, like any other man,
only he knows your name and comes into your castle,
through your whitewashed walls to see the ruins

You steel yourself against rebuke, prepared to fight or run
but his ways are not your ways, his thoughts are not your thoughts

He has compassion for you are like a sheep without a shepherd
and he’s come to search and seek the lost

He shows you the sparrows; he knows when any fall
and you are worth more than many sparrows
every hair on your head is numbered
he’s engraved you on the palms of his hands

In his presence, truth falls like spring showers
and waters the desert; a garden springing to life

Your heart of steel cracks; he makes you a heart of flesh
Your rotting castle washes away; he builds a house with a foundation to last.

And when it is finished, he rejoices over you, because
You are here.
You’re alive.
You’ve opened your eyes.


One thought on “(this is another poem)

  1. Jessica

    Anne, you are such an incredible poet.
    I’ve been reading each of your posts as you write them for a couple years now and literally almost EVERY time, they speak to me in such a personal way. Right now, as I just read this, it described what I’m going through/feeling so exactly, I’m still amazed! God seriously is using you in my, and I know others’ lives.
    This poem is incredible; I love it so much.
    Thank you for writing and sharing it!!
    With love,


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