Empty Nest
I nurse my grievance
a wee babe fresh
from the wound
The days and nights
pass one after the other
with little but certainty
of purpose
I nurse my grievance
a toddler now
sure and strong
I can barely remember
the details of the birth
but still feel the exhaustion
limits and bewilderment
I nurse my grievance
who is now unwilling
to be fed by her maker
Surrender
and stand alone
able to leave or stay
if I but say the word
I want to say “Go!”
but hear instead
“Surrender”
Salvation Chronicles 