03 December 2009

Defeated. Baptised

My surrender is desperate. Not to choose,
but to pause in tiredness. Face against the pale trunk
of fresh peeled river gum. Its leaves whispering,

"Let go. Let the hurts fall away.
Let life trace new patterns.
Draw courage from the earth,
from gentle rain and brilliant sun,
from the river ever running."

Accept my abandonment, O God.
Stripped of all, I rest in you.

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