We grieve when snow falls
on Good Friday eve.
What about the greening,
the beginnings of spring? when
like manna fallen from Heaven—
“My body broken for you” into
flakes and crumbs—
soft, pure-white flesh
spread upon all that lies
both dormant and sprouting,
at morn reflects the rising sun;
except for rockiest places
saturates fallow and seeded,
both broken and wasted ground.
~Catherine Lawton
We need to perceive the Truth.
Yet, darkly we peer through the glass.
Clean me for use
Free me to serve
Lift me to reach
That I may wash windows for You.
Wrong doctrine obscures
Gray living besmears
Raw weather, it blurs
The pane on this side.
Provide a soft cloth—not abrasive
The vision to transcend the obstructive
And courage to rub for perfection
Searching
Editing
Polishing
Till, through one clear corner,
Someone sees You.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
from the book, Remembering Softly: A Life In Poems © 2016