Again, said the fool 

Each time you beat me,
each time you curse my name
and toss my battered heart to the ground
and leave me for dead.

Each time you are sure I will never survive.
I do.

Not that I am strong.
No, never that lie,
for I am not strong.

I can show you the scars,
show you how easily I break and how often.
Look closely, and you will see the ravines
where my tears flow.
There is no hiding them any more.

I am too broken.

But I do not die.
Oh no.
I insist (insist!) on standing again and again,
foolish, determined, shaky and relentless,
I rise and spread my wings,

never trusting them,
but trusting the winds that lift me higher
than you can reach.

About this poem. 

I may feel beat up. In fact this past year I have often felt beat up. But I am stupid. I always believe God wants better for me (and all of us). And what God wants, God gets.

The picture was taken on the Chesapeake Bay, in Maryland.

Tom