Out of the depths I cry to you, O Holy One.
Not from gleaming heights of piety,
but darkest deeps I cry to you.
I bring you the gift of my tears,
the openness of my excuseless hands.
I offer to you the treasure of my confession,
the intricate art of my fractures.
If you judged, we would fail.
But you only bless, and forgive.
And so I wait. I sit in this darkness,
longing for your dawning in me,
longing for the dawning
that is surely coming,
that has already begun in my east,
and I watch.
June 25, 2021