A Tender Place


Leaves coat the trees outside the room in which I used to lay.

No longer barren, the branches are necessarily not bare.

Seasons given to the passage of time allow a touch of providence.

I am not still, yet still here. I am not whole, but yet am holy.

May the rains of tomorrow and the snows to come provide

perspective for the choices, blessings and joys betwixt

the sorrows and pains and regrets. 

No calloused scars to heal.

Nor are there rough hewn memories to fashion smooth.

Reflections come in the sunrise, come in the rainbows,

come in the eyes of a child smiling…

and all is more than right in our world.

It is a tender place to be. It is a tender way to stay.


5:44 pm

10 May 2010