Holy Ground

Standard
This poem is related to a previous post about simply being present with those who are suffering.

Blood

So much blood

And a precious bundle in carefully folded bright blue cloth

Through the mess

I see my friend

My sister

Who I love deeply

She smiles and says she’s so glad I’m there

She clings to me

A safe arm I guess

A privilege to stay with you, to not rush away

To hold your hand tight

To stand with you

Through the shock, weakness, questions, pain, tears, grief

Nowhere in the world I’d rather be than right here.

A holy moment

The three of us,

You, me

And this tiny tiny baby

Red and not yet fully formed

Yet with perfect little finger nails

As you name your baby

And release his spirit to God

As you weep and I hold you

I am humbled that I’m allowed in

To be this to you right now

To show you love, tenderness, care

To give what isn’t my own to give

Nothing draining from me

To be a channel

Simply a channel

To be available.

Holy ground

And we both know it

God is here, with us

I can feel it

Your bed attended by angels

I sing over you gently

Peace abounds

Strangely peaceful

Unnaturally peaceful

Supernatural peace, in fact

A gift from Him.

 

All poems and original writing on this blog are Copyright © Hilary Murdoch 2013
Advertisements

One response »

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