to let go of the final precious offerings.
There is nothing left in our control.
Now the pallette is empty
for a deposit of your colour.
Now the parchment has been erased
for the readiness of your pen.
Our relationships have been
relinquished on your threshold.
Where we have been unable
to make things right,
our forgiveness may be the gift
that reconciles, or your unseen hands
may sculpt a new possibility.
Letting go may be a kite of dreams
that sets free the seeds of grace,
for in another realm we may wait to truly know
each other once again.
How many seeds are planted in love
only to bear fruit in eternity?
As many seeds we may sow
and never see the harvest this side,
may be planted in eternal realms
to become fruit for the lips of God.
Love is never wasted
and will always cause growth
hidden in our everlasting souls,
in our physical realm made manifest,
or in the Spirit, as yet unfelt, we may never know.
But we can rest in the knowledge
of love that always bears the fruits of peace
and takes what is stretched out,
our palms open as wings,
finally able to feel space enough
to take to the sky,
unencumbered by the weight of
trying to bear matters
that belong in the care of God alone.
Photography Kyle Szegedi