Trembling questions.
Am I in arms reach?
Is He mad, indifferent,
disappointed,
happy? I bow in grief.

I AM who I AM.
Unseen, but known.
How much more are you?
Pain’s arms strangle.
I prune the vine of death.

Sacred silence scatters seeds of peace.
A green bough, the promise of life.
Hear the whisper above,
the trembling below?
My heart beats for God.

Poetry

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