Poem: A Washing Away

rushing water_resize

A Washing Away

You stand and watch as the water rushes past,
loud and churning in the morning.

You loft a shred of locust wood
into the air and it falls into the water,
swept away fast as sin
and just as sure.

And yet, you bleed,
the thorns of the locust leaving their mark
long after they are gone.

About this poem

God forgives and releases our sins. In a moment. Completely.

But often we hold onto them, marked by our mistakes, holding on to the pain long after God has forgotten and let it go.

We’re stupid that way.

Tom

PS – If you are not familiar with trees, Locust trees have thorns. Ancient legends say it was the tree that Christ was crucified on, and that after the crucifixion, God gave it thorns so no one would ever use it for that purpose again.

PPS – To my non-Christian readers, bear with me. Sometimes the preacher in me leaks into the poet in me. Sometimes too, it works the other way around.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s