The Tattered Bodice

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral. 


                                    ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Flight to Arras, 1942
 
So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.
 
                                    ~ Colossians 3:12-14
 
 The bodice lies in tatters
sleeve torn away, high collar
protects no more,
it is an echo of grandeur
a remnant of glory
it never fit, it was never mine.
 
It fit a time cinched,
a tailor made manner,
the grace of calling cards
high tea, polite silence.
imposed exclusion.
 
all that is left is this bodice
black lace over flesh pattern,
holey, lacking, beyond repair.
It’s gift?  The way You see it.
The way You see the ruin
of a grand cathedral,
the way You see promise in a pile
or rocks, or lace, or flesh.
Because of Him,
Linda
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Filed under Devotional, forgiveness, Poetry

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