Grace.

Julian’s Letters:

Grace.

By Michael Brookbank

I gave you nothing but the world

Yet you still screamed for more.

And when I poured my heart out for you

love was spilled in vain

Flooding over your whitewashed skin

Much like a soldier’s warm blood

That spreads across a winter snow

Melting away at what appeared

So pallor and so pure

Until it slowly reveals

the cold and the death

That lies underneath it all.

And in the time it took

For me to soak it all back in

And get this heart beating again

I found Grace in a thicket

Pulling me away from all the thorns

which always seemed to pierce my flesh.

And I fell in Love with a beauty

That doesn’t have to show her face...

Her hands are the night sky

And perfection can be found in

Every star that freckles it.

She wraps each finger tightly

Around my darkened world

And binds it together

Pours her heart into mine

And hopes that it overflows

So that the fruits of our labor can grow.

Without a thorn in sight.

I do not deserve someone so amazing

That instead of looking past my scars

She stares at nothing else

and still Loves me for them.

Because she sees each scar as her own.

This is a Love that saved my life

And for that...

I thank God for Grace.