A Roaring Wind Through an Old Heart

Morning after night
never stops being
a miracle

ask anyone
who knew survival
wasn’t a given
and thought
this darkness
was the last
they’d see

To hold steady
in the deepest dark
any god knows
will feel
(at least
at times)

This is why
so many
and prayers
cry out oh wondrous one
don’t abandon us here

This is why
so many
question the existence
of the unseeable
who doesn’t always comfort
or appear when called

A roaring wind
through an old heart
ache that begins in the belly
and rushes through limbs
of trees finally bare
takes the wind
out of you
when you least expected it

Morning comes
eyes open
hand over face
as you slowly recount
all the ways
in which

When time rushes over itself
and recedes
you can’t remember
if your children
are babies
or grown
or whose footsteps are those
who carried you through
those nights
and washed over your remorse
like a high tide, ever forgiving

Love that weighs enough
to keep us tethered
to this life
and each other
is the only kind
I ever meant to give them

And when I pray
maybe what I am really doing
is saying
let this be known
let this be true
let this be

One thought on “A Roaring Wind Through an Old Heart

  1. daniel says:

    Oh my, Jena. This is wondrous writing. So filled with light. And the humble heart of one who accepts the love that binds in a difficult world. This comes close, for me, to a sermon, a dvar torah. This writing is a gift.



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