Strands of Redemption

They say the meek shall prosper-
rise from ashes and shame.
Broken people whisper louder;
shine, under clandestine stars,
shimmering, making peace
from pieces of yesterday,
bartered and branded as shiny
new flowered tomorrows.

Oh, the pain, the pain of reality,
stark, glaring rays, almost blinding.
There you are, doubtful, resistant,
trusting of a resentful resemblance
of someone we used to know.

You stand there, judging me,
turning over the hour glass,
foot tapping, waiting for a response
to this trial without a jury
you have imposed; this unjust,
unrequited obsession.

I never would have thought
I would be standing here,
those pointing fingers, mocking;
birds leading me home,
away from scrutiny, ridicule.

These pearls, these pearls
pure as driven snow,
soft, never tainted by ugliness;
strands of redemption ‘round my neck
like winged promise,
pronounced in calming syllables
until ache is quieted by clasped hands
and soothing reverberation.

~ (inspired by “the Hanging Tree”)Jennifer Lawrence


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