The Most Loving Thing

There was tenderness

in the persistent way

pieces of my own heart

longed for understanding

and in the gentle way

they became willing

to surrender

the need to grasp —

to step outside

neatly sorted

concepts and ideas

and every place

that was comfortable

and guaranteed —

to toss it all up

again and again

because it was

the most loving thing.

In Trust

There were times

when the absolute best

I could do

was take the very next

needed step in trust

that the next

would appear

just as needed —

just as it had

always been.

And in-between these

small leaps of faith,

the voices of doubt grew

so much quieter

that I found myself

straining to hear —

as if their presence

could offer

any real security.

Funny, I had thought

they did.