Here

It is here, in the quiet arms
of the one who loves you most,
that you find peace in your imperfections,
not accepting them as inevitable,
but knowing you are loved no matter what
flaws riddle your stonework,
whatever weakness leaves you far more fragile
than you appear.

No wonder then that this quiet place
is where you come again and again,
where you linger even when the world calls you
into it’s storm.
For it is here where you find healing,
and peace, and truest love.

About this poem

It could be a spiritual poem – I was reading John 3:16 earlier this evening.

Or it could be a love poem. Or it could be a poem about family, or friends.

Mostly, it is a poem about safety and Grace.

Tom