Sing a song, oh my soul.
Sing of the girl, the woman,
the wife, the mother, the friend:
the one with a broken heart.
Sing of the love she has for her son,
love piercing deep with nowhere to go,
plunging deep, yet deeper still,
until it ascends to God.
Sing of the woman
whose heart has been broken,
of her tenderness, softness, and stillness:
these places in her that are new,
these places in her that are fresh,
these places in her that she knows
God needed to break.
This stillness, so hard-won:
common moments stopping time,
tears afresh and questions looming,
contemplation her steady friend.
This softness, so hard-won:
tearing all she thought she wanted (but didn't)
and all she truly did (but lost)
from her small yet delicate hands.
This tenderness, so hard-won:
its beauty glows amidst ashes.
In this place, a plea for mercy:
even this, dear God, redeem.