Were you there

When she felt alone,
unknown, adrift
in the small spaces between us?

When he grabbed the gun,

swallowed the pills,
huffed a noxious puff,
poured out his blood
into the bathtub?

Were you there

on the bedroom floor,
kitchen linoleum,
bathroom tile,
after the fist, the belt, the knife?

Were you there

when the cashier dropped her hand,
pushed the alarm two seconds
too slow?
When the deal went bad,
or the heart roiled with revenge?

Bless those who will

meet up with the cross tonight,
whose darkness has not yet
known a dawn so bright
it could bring us back from death.


Cynthia E. Robinson © 2013

The power of music

I've been having a rough time of it some days, hence, the lack of posts. Waiting and the distraction of it by keeping busy can take its toll. But then moments like these come along, and provide a space to be vulnerable and yet experience some healing. This is one of those songs when it felt like the Spirit had unzipped my armor and yanked it down around my ankles, leaving my fragile self exposed and yet not broken but somehow stronger for it.

(My husband is standing behind my left shoulder and my oldest daughter in front of him.)