Poem of the Lost


ago
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4
Qualified
Alone
Is where the Mind and Heart
Wrestle with the icky, sticky
The dark and lost desires of the flesh
And when they lose the battle
And it was not an innocent loss
The ooze of the dark
paints the soul with
Guilt and Despair
Lost
Lost
Lost

Look
A hand is already
Reaching out, stretching for fallen fingers
But despite the loving and true purpose
It feels as if reaching back is wrong
For this same battle
Has been fought
And lost
Before
Before
Before

Remember
The reacher isn’t only there
For the first innocent loss
But also for the countless
knowing and chosen defeats
And the drowning misery that follows.
Grasping that hand will
Raise up and free the fallen
And heal the broken
Reach
Reach
Reach


Know
For God so loved the world
Christ gave himself for me
To erase the stains
From my blackened soul
To mend the cracks in my
Precious pottery.
I am not lost
I am not alone
For a trembling hand has met the
Firm and outstretched one
On bended knee
With a fully broken heart
Love
Loved
Beloved
4

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