Heart on the Altar

I don’t often venture into the realm of poetry. But sometimes, especially when I’m working through things, I sort of go back to the familiar; back to what started my love of writing and words in the first place.

For some readers, you’ll know what’s happening here. For others, I have a lot to share when the timing is right.

For now though, here goes.

Heart on the Altar

My heart on the altar
Idols exposed, laid bare.
To what do I hold?
Is it meant to be grasped?
Is anything?

To whom do they belong?
To whom do I belong?

Where is the path?
Who has written it?
Who determines my steps?

Do I stumble in my own choosing?
Are roadblocks my own result?

Questions. Questioning.
Where? Why? How?
The thinking causes doubt.

My desperate clinging clogs the altar.

Instead, I lift my hands.
I. Look. Up.
I. Look. Back.

Memories abound.
The workings of the Master
In full view.
His path. Despite me.

Looking forward, grasping grace.
Finding only truth.

One path. One option.

Follow truth.
A greater leading.

Confidence. Grace. Hope.
Being led to lead.
I. Am. Yours.
My heart on the altar.