In all my searches
I've yet to find
Faithful trenches
Through hallowed time.

My fantasies fulfilled
Would tie to love and peace.
My heart is beating still
But longs for healing retreat.

I wish to have a thing depict
My fallow ground still hurting.
Tender reeds, smoldering wicks
And the binds of all my wounding

Haven't treated with seriousness
The loss with none who'll stand.
Jesus knows the callousness
And indifference or disdain.

But gently does His guiding hand
Direct me beyond the tides
To a land where I am free
To talk, be heard, then reside

With Him where I remain
Within His sacred vine.
Beauty for ashes now the gain
His holy grace Devine.