The cancer thing is rough and horrible, and I don't want to write about it today.
Still, it does leave room for thinking, and regret.
The saddest words were ever spoken,
words that flaming hell portend
illume a grace that has been broken,
and chill the soul, 'a former friend'.
What fell road led to this place
in which we see fellowship killed?
Can we still not find a trace
of love, or has the heart been stilled?
What is it, that is worth the fight
that comes between what should be whole?
Why pick we Egyptian night,
and let it fester on the soul
when we might yet chose to forbear
insult, and still consent to care?
The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is SUFFER. Can you suffer through another sonnet?
Will you bow, and choose to suffer
through an insult meant to wound?
Will you let God be your buffer,
when you've wept enough, and swooned
into the arms of black despair,
into the vale that floods with tears.
Will you let Him find you there,
let Him shield you from your fears?
Let the pride go out and pass,
let surrender be your all
that you may lay the looking glass,
and with fresh eyes behold the wall
behind which for years you have hidden,
and to surmount you now are bidden.
Three minutes thirty.
Barb does say I make her climb the walls, sometimes.
Music from The Sandpipers, with Come Saturday Morning
Come bearing ice cream, and all insult is forgotten.