Untitled

I am so heavy
In thought, word and deed
Pushing against
the sticky molasses ...

I was delivered
I had such strong faith
I boasted nothing
would ever
separate me from that
no, nothing ...

Now my beautiful faith
is all but shattered
Erased by a
horrendous month
and more
It is too much .........
even for me

I write this poem
as a catharsis
with tears rolling
down my face ...

You ask too much Lord

Yes I still love You
but I am no longer beautiful
My joy,
My child-like innocence is robbed ....

It is TOO much Lord

and now I am heavy
once again
All these circumstances
have stolen my precious gifts
and now I am just like those
who don't love You.

© Mary Shovlin August 2005