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  • Writer's pictureTaryn D


His voice is always

in the gentle stillness

patiently waiting for me

to turn down the volume

on my busy life

my thoughts

myself ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

His whisper points

to the turning leaves of fall

and invites me too, to let go --

to shed old habits

to shake clinging fears

and drop nagging resentments

that hang by a thread

and me -- hanging by them⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I take my cues from

the obedient oaks and

submit as the maples do

surrendering to the wind

open fisted ⠀⠀


I feel naked, void

Not my old self

but not yet who I will be

and it is as I feared ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

-- very cold ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀


But it is also now

that I become aware of roots

expanding, stretching to drink

beneath my ground

lengthening my crown

as all is quiet except

for his Word

His voice

and in a half shiver

and half nod of understanding

and a full resolve to trust Him

I sing through the cold

waiting for spring

watching closely

for His beauty in the branches


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